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Price, 50 Cents 


The Russian Refugee 

By HENRY R. WILSON 



Library oj Progress No. 7 Quarterly $ 2.00 a year June, i 8 q 3 

Entered at the Postoffice, Chicago, as second class mail 7 natter 


Charles H. Kerr & Co., Publishers, 175 Monroe st., Chicago 


4 




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THE 


Eussian Eefugee 


^ $aXje of tlxe ^Xuje 



HENRY R. WILSON 

tt 


Fiction is properly but gauze drapery through which the lineaments of the real 
figure may be detected. 

“Pygmies are pygmies still, though perched on Alps; 

And pyramids are pyramids in vales. 

Each man makes his own stature, builds himself: 

Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids; 

Her monuments shall last when Egypt’s fall.” 

: \ —NigM Thoughts 


CHICAGO 

CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY 


If 



CONTENTS. M 


PAGE 


Elsie, 

CHAPTER I. 


. . 1 

“The Giraffe,” . 

CHAPTER II. 


CO 

. tH 

• 

The Mystery, 

CHAPTER III. 


. 29 

The City Folks, . 

CHAPTER IV. 


. . 34 

A New World, 

CHAPTER V. 


. 40 

The “ Scarecrow,” 

CHAPTER VI. 

and iiis Dark Lantern, 

. 54 


CHAPTER VII. 




“On I Brave New World, that has such People in’t,” . 65 
CHAPTER VIII. 

Sunshine again, . . . . . . .77 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Conundrum, . . . . . , ,88 


IV 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER X. 

A New Face, .... 

• 

• 

PAGE 

. 94 

CHAPTER XI. 

f 

A Warm Experience, 

• 

• 

. 106 

CHAPTER XII. 

Subterranean History, 

• 

• 

. 120 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Unwelcome Visitors, 

• 

• 

. 137 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Trans- ATLANTIC Visitors, 

• 

• 

. 152 

CHAPTER XV. 

Face to Face at Last, . 

. 


. 164 

CHAPTER XVI. 

“ A Man’s a Man for a’ That,” 



. 194 

CHAPTER XVII. 

I Hope I don’t Intrude, 



. 214 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Playing with Fire, 


• 

. 229 

. CHAPTER XIX. 

A Passage at Arms,' 

• 

• 

. 236 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XX. 


V 

PAGE 

A Crisis, . 

CHAPTER XXI. 

* 

. 261 

The Red Circle, 

CHAPTER XXII. 

• 

. 279 

Engaged, . 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

• 

. 294 

A Thunder-cloud, 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

• 

. 299 

A Bit of Blue Sky, 

CHAPTER XXV. 

• 

. 304 

Burying the Hatchet, .... 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

• 

. 309 

Wedding Bells, . 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

• 

. 320 

The “ Great Booty ” 

Mine, 

CHAPTER XXVIII. ' 

• 

. 330 

Solving Problems, 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

• 

. 336 


Tire TriaI/, 


345 


VI 


CONTENTS, 


In Deep Waters, 


An Ordeal, 


A Friend in Need, 


CHAPTER XXX/ 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


CHAPTER XXXn. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 
A Nocturnal Surprise, 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


U NMASKING, 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

“ Woes Cluster ; Rare are Solitary Woes,” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


Nemesis, . 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 
Occult Therapeutics, . 


CHAPTER XXXVin. 


The Avenger, 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

The Way op the Transgressor, . 


PAGB 

. 366 


. 375 ‘ 


. 386 


. 405 


. 418 


. 429 


. 442 


. 450 


. 462 


. 469 


CONTENTS. 


Vll 


CHAPTER XL. 


Revelations, 


PAGE 

. 473 


CHAPTER XLI. 
A New Patient, .... 

CHAPTER XLII. 

The Healing Power, 


. 480 


. 491 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


A New Departure, 


. 505 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


A Half Confession, 


. 519 


CHAPTER XLV. 

Hope Deferred, 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

To Solve a Problem, 

CHAPTER XLVII. 
Civilized and Savage, . 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 
Perils by the Way, . 

CHAPTER XLIX. 


. 527 


. 543 


. 551 


. 560 


Home Again, 


. 571 


viii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER L. 

PAGK 

Sunset Glories, . . . . . . .575 

CHAPTER LI. 

The Final Testament, ...... 584 

CHAPTER LII. 

“Like a Pale Martyr in His Shirt of Fire,” . . 590 

CHAPTER LIII. 

Heart Language, ...... 597 

. CHAPTER LIV. 

Day-light comes and the Shadows Fly, . . . 600 


f 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


CHAPTER I. 

ELSIE. 

Mr. Hastings’ home, Hermitage, was about two miles 
from the pretty little town of Melville, and a very charming 
spot it was. The name dated back over half a century, 
and was given because of a solitary who once lived there. 
‘‘A strange being he must have been, according to all ac- 
counts,” said the present proprietor to a friend, ‘*and a 
man of considerable original power, I should judge, by the 
impression he has left on this neighborhood. He resided 
here many years, having purchased the place when it was 
almost entirely virgin forest, and by skill and industry, 
aided by liberal capital, gradually developed a handsome 
estate. This house was erected by him, and was a marvel 
of comfort and elegance for those times. But becoming 
discontented, it is supposed, at the encroaching civiliza- 
tion, he suddenly disappeared, having quietly disposed of 
the property, which, after changing owners once or twice, 
fell into my hands. The hermit was reputed to be a 
wealthy Kussian. Money he always had in abundance, so 
the early neighbors said, and indeed the mansion of stone 
and the solid wall inclosing the spacious lawn seemed to 
prove this. However, he was not actually a. hermit, al-^ 
though called so, for he had two companions. One was^" 
an old servant, who occupied a small cottage some short 


2 


THE EUSSIAlSr REFUGEE. 


distance from the house, and went to and fro, forming 
the medium with the outer world, and the other a lad of a 
few years, reputed to be the proprietor’s son. About one 
hundred and forty acres belonged to the estate, which was 
untilled, with the exception of a garden in front of the 
house well filled with native and foreign plants. In this 
garden the misanthropist spent much of his time, and the 
superstition of the curious soon spread reports that these 
plants were used for unholy pui’poses. Indeed, the hermit 
was both shunned and feared by the scattered denizens of 
the vicinity, the very thing which, no doubt, he desired. 
These are, in short, what items I have succeeded in gather- 
ing of this singular predecessor of mine, although I have 
spent both time and money in trying to ferret out his his- 
tory. Some of the good people round about profess to be- 
lieve that the old fellow is living yet, or, at least, has the 
1)0 wer to appear now and then for his own diversion and 
the terror of the beholders.” 

“ O papa ! he couldn’t be living yet, surely, for it is 
said to be seventy years, at least, since he disappeared, and 
the local tradition says he was an old man at that time,” 
remarked Elsie Hastings, the only child of the proprietor. 

“ Which would make the worthy hermit a pretty ripe 
age — one hundred and forty or thereabouts,” laughed the 
guest, Mr. St. Johns. 

“ Old Chloe says she saw him when she was a girl, and 
that he looked quite ancient,” continued the daughter. 

“And if you add seventy years to an ancient,” said her 
father, regarding her fondly, “ what will be the result ? ” 

“ A fossil, papa, of course ; and, like most fossils, only to 
be found in the earth, buried out of sight,” responded the 
young lady, promptly. 

^ Very bright and cheery looked Elsie this morning, as 
she stood beside her parent. The flush and sparkle of 
girlhood had just given way to the beauty and power 


THE EUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


3 


of womanhood. She was a brunette, fully developed, 
with well-rounded, rather muscular figure, slightly above 
the medium height, a self-reliant, healthy, vigorous, hand- 
some woman. Brought up in this suburban retreat, un- 
trammelled and unchecked, only lovingly guided, she had 
developed a degree of health and strength which was de- 
lightful to see. Nor had her mind been neglected, for her 
fond parent had been larg'ely her tutor, and carefully laid 
a solid basis of useful knowledge, which she had ably 
supplemented by judicious reading in the well-stocked 
library. 

“ I gave my Elsie the run of the library, knowing well 
that there was no book there which could injure her,” said 
the gentleman, in reply to a question from his guest. “ I 
did not feel justified in making my mind a criterion for 
hers. Different people require different mental aliment. 
Turn a cow, horse, goat, and sheep into a common pasture, 
and each will select just such plants as are adapted to its 
needs. Certain plants will be eaten by all, though not in 
the same proportions. But you will find that the cow will 
eat some plants which the others will not touch, and so on 
of the horse, goat, and sheep. So in a way, different indi- 
viduals of our species need different intellectual food, and 
from books, lectures, conversations, etc., will, if healthily 
developed, take just what they require.” 

“ O father ! Cousin Warren has had quite an adven- 
ture,” exclaimed the daughter, who had been summoned 
from the room, re-entering the library, where the two 
gentlemen sat engaged in conversation after breakfast, 
“and has had a pretty narrow escape of his life, too, I 
should think,” handing her father an open letter. 

“Indeed? I thought Warren could take pretty good 
care of himself ; but, if Mr. St. Johns will permit, I will 
glance over the letter while you show him those shells I 
brought you last week,” 


4 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 

» Just what I should like,” responded the guest, spring- 

I^will join you in a moment,” said Mr. Hastings, as 
they disappeared. 

The letter referred to was about four pages long, written 
from London, and giving the details of an adventure at 
a suburban villa. He claimed to be very busy in his 
medical work and sight-seeing, and probably would not 
return to America for some months. The letter concluded 
with a postscript : 

“ Now, dear coz, take care • of yourself and of my uncle, 
for he is one among a thousand, in spite of his peculiar 
notions of educating young ladies. W. S.” 

“ Well,” remarked Mr. Hastings, on joining his daughter 
and guest a few moments later, “I imagine Warren has 
some comical ideas of my peculiar notions, as he auda- 
ciously terms them ; but he is a good fellow, and I shall be 
glad to see him back.” 

“ Why, father, Mr. St. Johns says he knows Cousin War- 
ren.” 

“ Yes, I met him in the White Mountains two or three 
summers ago, and found him a capital companion. I shall 
be glad to meet him again,” said the guest. 

A servant came to announce that the horses were at the 
door, for the party to take a ride to a somewhat famous 
mountain gorge, a few miles distant, which was a favorite 
visiting resort for strangers. Mr. and IVIiss Hastings were 
capital riders, and the visitor thought he could manage to 
keep up, and so saddle-horses were chosen in preference to 
a carriage. 

There are few modes of locomotion so exhilarating as rid- 
ing, if one has a firm seat and hand. You are a Centaur 
for the time being, and partake of the strength and speed of 
the animal you ride. Elsie gloried in it, and on this fine No- 
vember morning her face glowed with excitement as they 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


5 


cantered along. “ Let sentimentalists say what they please, 
there is no true beauty without physical health. Indeed 
that is beauty, and there is no other, so far as the body is 
concerned,” said St. Johns, as Elsie dashed on ahead, just 
to try her horse’s mettle, as she said. 

“ That has been my view in training my girl,” returned 
her father, “ she has grown up as unfettered as a boy, and 
knows nothing of the small waists, languid air, pale com- 
plexion, and mincing, slow step of fashionable life.” 

“ I wish I could say as much for my two daughters,” 
said his companion, “ but it is so different bringing up a 
family in a city.” 

“ True ; the women so often, even with the best inten- 
tions, fall, ere they are aware, into the maelstrom of fashion, 
and with their children become mere waifs floating on the 
whirling waters of bad physical habits, which almost inevit- 
ably result in life-long invalidism.” 

The city man sighed as he answered : I suppose mine 
are no worse than the majority, but it sometimes seems to 
me that there is nothing natural about them. Artificiality 
is everywhere. I struggled against it as long as I could, 
but a business man, away all day, and only home with his 
family evenings and Sundays, can do but httle.” 

“ Well, well, their natural good sense may make it all 
right yet ” rejoined his friend, knowing that this was a sore 
point with him. 

Mr. St. Johns was a lawyer in a distant city, who had 
after entering practice married a dashing fashionable girl, 
the child of a prominent merchant. They had three chil- 
dren, two girls and a boy. The latter was of age, and had 
lately graduated at Harvard. And fine-looking young 
people they were, but devoted slaves to all the foibles of 
the world of gaiety and fashion. The mother was still very 
attractive and much attached to her husband and family, 
but a bond servant to Madam Grundy. 


6 


THE KirSSIAN REFUGEE. 


If that autocrat had decreed that the headdress should be 
four feet high, Mrs. St. Johns, with a feeble inward remon- 
strance from her common sense, which still lived, but in an 
unhealthy condition from want of exercise, would have sent 
at once for the coiffure artist, and given orders for self and 
daughters. “If you think that three feet eleven inches 
and a half will do, mademoiselle, why that will answer, I 
leave it entirely to your judgment. But do not let us be 
outr6.” Should the artist unwittingly reply that she 
thought they might venture to make a half inch concession 
without danger of incurring social ostracism, yet long ex- 
perience had taught her that such decision w’ould be by no 
means final. For in all probability the stately footman from 
the St. Johns mansion would come an hour or so later with 
a pretty little scented note from madame saying, “Dear 
Mademoiselle, on mature thought I have concluded to have 
our coiffures en r^gle. L. St. J.” 

Those artful and ingenious people, the milliners, dress- 
makers, and tailors, those rulers in the kingdom of cloth, 
those members of the costume aristocracy, how they must 
laugh at the foibles and weaknesses of those wdio daily 
crowd and throng their audience chambers. Call them 
servants, dependents, etc. ? What nonsense ! Fashion is 
queen, and these experts are the Grand Chamberlains and 
Ladies of Honor, to whom aU must sue and pay court, who 
hope for favors from the sovereign. The ladies of the St. 
Johns family yielded implicitly to her will, never question- 
ing her wisdom. More habit this, perhaps, than deficiency 
in reasoning power. But how much easier it is, and how 
much more smoothly will life glide, if we can permit others 
to do our thinking for us. To reason, to assert one’s indi- 
viduality requires effort and expenditure of force, and by 
avoiding unnecessary thought we conseiwe this force, and 
so retain a large surplus of vitality for more congenial use. 

The ride to the “Big Bavine,” the popular name, was a 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


7 


treat in every sense, and most thoroughly enjoyed by the 
guest. The Big Ravine was, as said before, an immense 
gorge, cut or ploughed through the mountain chain, which 
.skirted the landscape here. Wonderfully grand and pictur- 
esque this deep dark chasm showed from the point where 
they stood. Hundreds of feet deep, the eye wandered, 
down, down, finding no bottom. Naught but profundity, 
and tree- tops, and gloom ! The horses w^ere tied to trees 
in a grove near by, and the party proceeded on foot to ex- 
plore the vicinity. Elsie was more familiar with the locality 
than the gentlemen, and so, by tacit consent led the way, 
and a pretty wild way it was, tangled and overgrown by 
brambles and brushwood. The path led continuously 
downward for about half a mile and then turned upward for 
a hundred or so feet to a sort of natural bridge leading 
across a small canon which entered the Big Ravine. This 
natural bridge was worth, as the guest enthusiastically 
said, ‘‘ walking a thousand miles to see.” In the volcanic 
action which disrupted the mountain and formed the gorge, 
enormous fragments of rock had been hurled from below, 
and three of them in descending had fallen immediately 
over this seam or fissure and become, immovably wedged 
together, the centre fragment forming the key-stone of the 
arch. It w^as now densely covered with mosses and creep- 
ing plants. Standing on the middle of the bridge the eye 
could explore to some extent the Big Ravine and catch the 
white sheen of tossing water as it reflected the few wander- 
ing sunbeams which penetrated its otherwise inscrutable 
gloom. ^ 

“ ‘ There is a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the 
vulture’s eye hath not seen,’” quoted Mr. Hastings, “and 
certainly this is the place.” 

Being a little uneasy about the horses, as one or two 
tramps had been passed on the road, evidently bound for the 
Ravine, the two gentlemen decided to return to the clump of 


8 THE RUSSIAK REFUGEE. 

trees where the animals were, and await the arrival of Elsie, 
who desired to explore the opposite side of the chasm for 
ferns and leaves, of which she was making a collection. 
Springing forward she began ascending the great bowlder 
which lay just beyond the bridge on the other side, and 
over which the path lay. This bowlder seemed to belong 
to the same group which constituted the bridge, but having 
been hindered in some way had come to a halt before 
reaching the canon. Being some twenty feet high it tasked 
her energies considerably. But she had the spring and 
elastic step of a mountain chamois and almost as much en- 
durance. At least so thought tlie two gentlemen who 
watched her as she slowly but surely gained the dizzy 
summit, on which, lingering for a moment to enjoy the 
view down the great gorge, she waved her hand, and shout- 
ing, “ Au revoir,” speedily disappeared. 

“Why she has the courage of Zenobia. I would not 
dare trust one of my girls over there alone. Isn’t it rather 
risky ? ” 

“ Not at aU,” returned her father, “ Elsie is as sure-footed 
as a hunter, and does not know fear.” 

The young lady pursued her way, jumping and climbing 
and clinging along the narrow goat path which led from 
the bridge and skirted the very edge or brink of the vast 
canon. The scene was wild, and weird, and threatening 
enough to try the nerves of any but an accomplished wood- 
ranger. But Elsie felt as much at home as on her father’s 
lawn. Earth and sky seemed to smile on her in unison, 
and the mountain air tasted like nectar. Vigorous health 
and the splendid confidence of youth, touched everything 
she gazed at as with magic wand, making rock, tree, plant, 
even the dark gorge itself, glow and sparkle and scintillate 
in the dancing rays of the autumn sun. 

“ I feel this morning as if I could fly ! ” she exclaimed, 
quickening her pace to a run. Tossing her hat from her 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


9 


head over the left shoulder, held by the loosely tied ribbon 
under her chin, her right hand firmly clasping a mountain 
staff cut for her by her father, she dashed forward. Her 
abundant black hair giving outline to a face of the Italian 
type, her nut-browm complexion and the easy grace of her 
movements, aU seemed to mark her a child of nature, sym- 
pathetic with its varied moods and rejoicing in its freedom. 
Man’s animal nature ought to be as free and bounding as 
that of the inferior creatures, but civilization, that complex 
thing, seems to check, and hinder, and depress, and throw 
obstacles in his path, and fetters around his limbs. Seek- 
ing to understand nature, and to pry into her secrets and 
search out her mysteries, he too often loses sight of the 
simple lessons which she would fain teach him — the pri- 
mary truths which the savage learns at once, but which the 
civilized man with a strange mental obliquity either sees 
not, or forgets, or ignores. Let us go back to the first 
principles and learn from the untutored man of the forest, 
or even from the dog, the horse, the deer, those humble 
disciples of nature, that man has enslaved, but failed to 
corrupt. Let him learn from them that simplicity in diet, 
temperance, exercise, are the conditions of sound sleep, 
vigorous digestion, freedom from disease, and the capacity 
to endure. We have levied on earth, air, water, for con- 
tributions to our tables, daily using food in quality and 
quantity that could only be properly digested and assimi- 
lated under very active conditions of physical exercise in the 
open air. Yet we imagine half an hour’s easy sauntering in 
the twilight perhaps, is exercise, or may be a drive of a few 
miles. Yes, but I often drive two hour’s a day,” says one. 
True, madame, and it does your horse good, and that is 
why he looks so strong and never complains of headache, 
or the blues, or dyspepsia. Why not imitate him and take 
some of his medicine — exercise ? These were the teachings 
to which Elsie had listened through her growing years, and 


10 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


the result had justified the wisdom of the course. Regard- 
less of the weather, daily vigorous exercise in the open air 
was as invariable as taking food, and she and sickness, in 
the ordinary sense, were strangers. 

She was now opposite the widest part of the great canon, 
and following a sharp path leading downward, airived at 
a point where she could look into and across the awful 
depths of the vast chasm. What a tiny creature is man 
when he faces material existence in its massive forms and 
gigantic developments. This young woman, bright, active, 
cheery as she ordinarily was, now felt depressed and 
quieted in presence of nature’s grandeur. She felt as if 
before the throne of the Infinite, with the eye of the Eter- 
nal fixed upon her. There are moments of worship which 
can only come in scenes like these. An atom, a speck, 
she seemed to be, cast athwart these splendid creations ; 
not of them, and yet partaking enough of the material nat- 
ure to feel some degree of affinity with them. But when 
most awed, when the feeling of helplessness and weakness, 
before such strength and power, and mightiness, was great- 
est, the thought came, “But after all, I can feel awe and 
wonder at them, and appreciate, in some faint way their, 
majesty, while they regard me with the stony gaze of mat- 
ter chained in the lethargy of unconsciousness. I think 
and feel, and can move from place to place. But ten 
thousand appalling catastrophes might occur and the same 
calm indifference would reign supreme here, as ever.” 
These reflections seemed to break the chain which bound 
her, and she felt at once in her whole being “ the majesty 
of man.’ 

Left motherless at an early age, and thrown much 
upon her own resources, she had sought and found in 
nature a friend, not dead, cold, and unresponsive as so 
many find her, but warm, sympathetic, loving. So, usu- 
ally, inspired by happy associations, it was amid such 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


11 


scenes as these, that her thoughts flowed freest ; but 
yet she would at times fall into a sort of trance con- 
dition of inert comtemplation, in which she seemed merged 
in creation, and a part of it, all individuality apparently 
lost. Then when her personality came back to her she 
would sometimes experience a revulsion as in the present 
instance, and become not a mere votary at the temple altar, 
but the goddess within the shrine ; not a mere intimate in 
the mansion, but the mistress herself. Eapidly continu- 
ing her ramble she arrived at a platform of rock which 
jutted out into the gorge, forming an abrupt break in the 
continuity of the cliff margin. From this point the ravine 
receded sharply and widened considerably, as a gulf '\\dll 
before joining the ocean. This was a coigne of vantage 
which gave the sweep of the canon and the broad valley in 
the distance, above and beyond the vast granite rampart 
which formed the upper end of the ravine. 

“ Oh, I could live here forever,” she exclaimed, as she 
seated herself on the edge of the flat rock and peered down 
into the obscurity below. ‘‘ But my time has about ex- 
pired and I must be returning,” she said vexatiously, glanc- 
ing at the tiny watch, her treasured memento of “mother,” 
which she carried at her girdle. “ But I must have some 
of those wonderful leaves down there.” The leaves in 
question were some of unusual brilliancy, painted in mar- 
vellous tints by the brush of the artist specially commis- 
sioned to spangle and adorn the autumn woods. The 
forests and glades had clung tenaciously to their green 
robes this year, but were now beginning to flame and glow 
in every direction, and the leaves, too, were falling by 
myriads, as if modestly to hide their gay colors. The 
coveted treasures which Elsie spoke of were on a tree grow- 
ing about fifty feet below, and springing obliquely from the 
side of the declivity. Letting herself down by some tena- 
cious vines which grew over and around the rocky plat- 


12 THE THJSSIAH REFUGEE. 

form on which she stood, the daring girl, with the nimble- 
ness and agility of a panther, succeeded in reaching the de- 
sired objects. Plucking the choicest and most rarely tinted 
ones, she placed them in her bosom and prepared to regain 
her former position. Easy to think of, but by no means 
easy of execution, she soon discovered, when, after repeated 
fruitless attempts, she found herself farther down, instead of 
up, the precipitous side of the ravine. Finally, making a 
desperate effort, she sprang upward, and reached, by the 
aid of the clinging vines, a rocky ledge, or rather bowlder, 
bedded in the side of the chff. Taking breath preparatory 
to further effort, for she realized she was in rather a peril- 
ous position, and besides feeling naturally anxious to re- 
join her father and guest in good time, she rested for a 
moment. Suddenly the landscape, as she swept her gaze 
around, seemed to be moving! What was the matter? 
She glanced quickly to the opposite side of the chasm and 
it seemed to be rising up in the air. The thought flashed 
on her, “the ground is settling beneath me.” Quicker 
and quicker — tree, bowlder, and passenger — the earth for 
several yards round slid down the surface of the rock. 
Down, down, they went, hindered somewhat by opposing 
shrubs and small trees. A land-slide — a small one to be 
sure, but yet carrying a great mass of earth with it, and 
the girl clinging wildly to the tree whose bright leaves had 
lured her down there, and which somehow kept its balance. 
A sudden crashing of tree-tops, and her queer vehicle came 
to a halt with a shock which dashed her violently down, 
and in an instant the world for her was collapsed. 


CHAPTER 11. 


“THE GIRAFFE.” 

Me. Hastings and his friend waited patiently for the 
return of the youngest member of the party, for about two 
hours. It was then suggested by the host that they should 
mount and ride along the road skirting the Great Gorge, 
so as to enable St. Johns to form a somewhat clearer idea of 
the majestic ravine. “ Elsie may return in the meantime, 
but she will wait for us, as I shall pin this little note on her 
saddle-cloth, telling her we shall soon be back.” 

“ But surely it is time she was here now. I fear some- 
thing has happened to her,” said the guest, anxiously. 

The father smiled, and answered, “ The time for feeling 
anxiety for her has long gone by. I have the most implicit 
confidence in her skill and prudence. She has wandered 
farther than she expected, not finding what she wanted 
readily. She will certainly be here soon.” 

Nevertheless, Mr. St. Johns was certain he detected a 
shade of anxiety in the voice and manner of his friend, and the 
glance he occasionally cast in the direction the daughter had 
gone. After a couple of miles’ canter the equestrians reined 
in their steeds at a point where the road curved almost at the 
very edge of a stupendous precipice, where the more or less 
dense foliage and shrubbery which had hitherto obscured 
the view broke away abruptly, and left open to them a secure 
almost unrivalled in extent and grandeur. The sky was 
light blue, flecked with fleecy clouds, and the sun shone 
brightly, giving that peculiar white light and brilliancy, 


14 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


with but little heat, which is so often noticed in the late 
fall. A quiet, as of the eternal, seemed to fall upon and 
enshroud them, as they concentrated their very beings in 
vision, and drank in the scene. The horses were still, as if 
cut in stone, and seemed to realize the occasion. At last 
their reverie was broken by the swoop of an eagle which 
crossed their vision and soared up — up — up — taking their 
gaze with it. 

“That is ideal life,” said Mr. Hastings — “ the life of a 
free, strong creature like that. Our existence seems tame 
beside it. It seems to me, when I gaze at a panorama like 
this, that I would give years of my human life to be for a 
few hours a creature like that bird, to swoop through this 
vast concavity, over and into and round this mighty gorge, 
viewing it from a hundred standpoints, and, as it were, 
grasping the scene in its entirety. The birds’ life must be 
the grandest in the world.” 

“I question if yon creature appreciates, in his quick, 
changing series of views, and his thousand glimpses of this 
scene, anything like as much as we do from our present 
fixed point,” was the answer of his companion. 

“ Possibly not, for our imagination gives us larger and 
more varied flight than he has, and man only seems able 
to understand nature. However, let us return, for my 
daughter must be at the trysting-place by this time.” 

On reaching the grove, Mr. Hastings said nervously as 
they dismounted, “ We have been gone an hour and she 
has not returned. Can it be possible that she has lost her 
way, or met with any mishap ? ” 

“ Let us by all means follow her,” said Mr. St. Johns. 

“ Oh no, I would not think of tiring you ; just remain 
here, and I will walk rapidly in the direction she has taken, 
and may shortly meet her. Occasionally she is unconscious 
of the lapse of time, when after favorite flowers.” 

But St, Johns insisting, the two gentlemen proceeded to 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


15 


the natural bridge, crossed it as rapidly as they could, and 
turned into the path which Elsie had actually taken. 

“ I am not so familiar with this range as Elsie ; but yet 
know it pretty well, and there is a favorite view of hers 
about two miles from the bridge, called by the country 
folks the ‘Devil’s Dock,’ because it presents the wildest and 
most appalling view of the gorge.” 

“ And possibly she has met with some trifling accident 
which detains her there,” returned his friend, cheerfully, 
more to allay the rapidly increasing anxiety of his host 
than from any confidence he felt in his own suggestion. 
In truth when he caught occasional glimpses of the vast 
gulf, hundreds of feet below them, his heart stood still in 
thinking of the possible lawful fate of that bright young 
life that had parted from them so hopefully a few hours 
before. For St. Johns was rather a timid man, and had an 
idea that women, especially young women, were like deli- 
cate chin aware, only to be entrusted to the most careful 
hands. The personal independence of Elsie Hastings was 
a thing so foreign to his mode of thinking and experi- 
ence that it gave him a sort of nervous shock, much as, in 
another sense, he admired it. Beaching the rock from 
which Elsie had made her unlucky descent to procure the 
leaves, they soon decided that she had been there, for a 
parcel of ferns and leaves lay where she had deposited 
them on first reaching this point. This somewhat reas- 
sured Mr. Hastings, while it increased the anxiety and alarm 
of his companion. 

“ My daughter is courageous but not rash, and at the 
worst, I suspect she may have sprained her ankle, and so 
been detained. If we do not shortly find traces of her I 
shall conclude that something of that kind has happened, 
and being unable to return to us she has managed to find 
some means of reaching home by the wagon road, which 
winds round the upper head of the ravine,” 


16 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


“ Mr. Hastings, your coolness, allow me to say, astonishes 
me ; you are a paradox. If it was one of my girls, or even 
my boy, I should be wild with anxiety, while you seem to 
regard the disappearance of the dearest being to you in the 
world, with coolness and philosophy.” 

“ My dear fellow, if I supposed there was any real danger, 
do you think I could be calm ? But this is by no means the 
first time the j’^oung lady has disappeared and failed to keep 
her appointments.” 

“But would she not first send a messenger to allay your 
anxiety before starting for home, supposing she was so for- 
tunate as to meet a conveyance to take her ? ” 

“Certainly ; but travellers along the upper road are rare, 
and it would be as easy to notify us from the head of the 
glen as by the way we have reached here. Her first thought 
would be for us, and so I can only suppose she failed to find 
a messenger and counted on sending one from the house, if 
not before.” 

Exploration in every direction from the rock failed to 
find any further traces of the missing one, and then the 
friend suggested that she might have gone down the face 
of the cliff to secure some curiosity, and not be able to re- 
turn. Acting on this thought the gentlemen shouted her 
name until a thousand echoes answered from all parts of 
the ravine, but no other response. 

“ I dare not suppose she would be so rash as to venture 
down there under any pretext or temptation,” said the 
father, with a shudder, looking over the edge of the rock 
into the seemingly fathomless depth below. ‘ ‘ Let us re- 
turn, for I cannot help thinking she is at home,” said he, at 
length, “ and if so we waste time here.” 

They reached the horses, rather weary from the exercise, 
and immediately mounted, Mr. Hastings having engaged 
a country boy they met, to ride the empty saddle. They 
also arranged that a brother of this lad, who lived on their 


THE KUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


17 


road home, should return to the natural bridge and remain 
there until sunset, in case the lost one should appear. 

On reaching the Hermitage the gentlemen found the 
daughter had not been seen or heard of. Mr. Hastings 
led the way to his library. “ Let me think awhile as to 
the best thing to do,” said he, giving his guest a chair, and 
taking his own seat by the window. 

Mr. St. Johns watched his host with mingled admiration 
and wonder. 

“ Externally an icicle ; internally a smothered volcano,” 
he said to himself as he watched the fine, strong face in its 
resolute calm, only indicating to a close observer, the 
struggle going on within. 

“ Something must have happened to my child,” he said 
at length, starting up. “ Kemain here a moment while I 
give some orders.” 

“Do not leave me out, I must help in some way,” said 
the guest. 

“ Thank you heartily, my friend ; I shall count on you. 
I will return immediately.” 

Mr. St. Johns sat uneasily awaiting his friend’s return, 
when something seemed to darken the window looking out 
on the garden to his left, and glancing quickly he saw a 
face pressed against the pane, and observing him closely. 
As St. Johns’ gaze caught the other the visage was 
quickly withdrawn. “ Who can he be ? ” said the gentle- 
man, springing to the window ; “the most malignant look- 
ing phiz I have seen for many a long day.” No one was 
to be seen in the garden, and the somewhat disturbed 
guest resumed his seat. Mr. Hastings now entered and 
announced that he had organized two parties of three per- 
sons each, to proceed with lanterns and ropes to explore the 
vicinity of the glen, going in different directions, but to 
work do ward the rock where the ferns were found. “We 
go in two wagons, and I accompany the one going round 


18 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


the head of the glen. You, my friend, I must ask to re- 
main, to send instant intelligence to us if my daughter 
should return, or any information be received here. A 
lunch awaits us in the dining-room, which we shall need as 
we may be up all night.” 

St. Johns urged to be allowed to accompany one of the 
search parties, but yielded to the reasoning of his host, 
seeing how essential it was to have some reliable person at 
head-quarters. 

Mr. Hastings and his two wagons and men left at once, 
taking with them a large mastiff, a superb, strongly limbed 
creature, which Elsie had reared from a three months old 
puppy. Her father thought the sagacity of the animal 
might be made available in the search. The dog was about 
the color and size of a Californian lion, and almost as agile 
and strong. On being shown a walking-dress of his young 
mistress he smelled at it and leaped and frisked about, as 
if he fully understood all that was expected of him. 

Mr. St. Johns remained in the library awhile, after the 
departure of the others, and tried to read ; but feeling list- 
less, and unable to fix his attention on the volume, concluded 
to take a stroll in the garden, into which the library win- 
dow led, being on the same level. It was bright moon- 
light, only obscured now and then by a wandering cloud 
which passed across the bright face of the Queen of Night. 
After walking up and down a few times, the night being 
quite mild for the season, he seated himself on the fanci- 
fully twisted rustic seat at the bottom of the garden. 

Tired, mentally and physically, he soon became oblivious 
of surroundings. How long he slept he knew” not, but 
awaked suddenly, shivering with cold, and with a somewhat 
confused memory of a hideous dream, in which he saw 
Elsie Hastings falling down from the table-rock, down — 
down — down — then a blank. And he also had a confused 
recollection of seeing in his dreana a human body, or what 


THE KUSSIAlSr REFUGEE. 


19 


appeared like a body, being carried somewhere into the 
darkness. He shuddered at the thought suggested ; but 
somehow this fragmentary sleep-vision reassured him, and 
for some inexplicable reason, instead of increasing, rather 
lessened his anxiety. Perhaps it was, as he afterward ex- 
plained, because just as dreamland dissolved into waking 
fact of moonlight, and garden, and the physical sensation 
of cold, a face of cheerful expression floated swiftly across 
the margin of half-consciousness and vanished. Returning 
to the library, the lawyer found the housekeeper, Mrs. 
AVagram, lamenting bitterly. 

“What has happened?” he cried, fearfully; “has any- 
thing been heard of Miss Hastings ? ” 

“ Ah, non, Meester Johns, but look at Meester Hasting’s 
lockup, all tore open, and all the things gone,” and here 
she cried as if her heart would break. 

Yes, the private drawer in the secretary was open, and 
contained nothing but a few papers. The deed had been 
adroitly done, and quickly too, for the gentleman on look- 
ing at his watch found he had only been absent about an 
hour. Nothing else apparently had been disturbed. The 
di’awer was a strong one, and closed with a spring, and 
showed that considerable force had been used in opening 
it. A peculiar-shaped jimmy with the Sheffield stamp on 
it was the only evidence of the visit apart from the rifled 
drawer. 

“ Did Mr. Hastings keep anything very valuable there ? ” 
he asked the housekeeper, who sat moaning and crying on 
the sofa, and then added quickly, “ but of course you don’t 
know.” 

“ O, oui, monsieur, papers, and money, and quelque 
chose.” 

' “ Can you think of anybody likely to do this ? This has 
been done by someone who knows the house, for nothing 
else has been touched but this one drawer.” 


20 


the kussian eefugee. 

“ Non. monsieur, I cannot teU. The bad man from New 
York, no doubt.” 

In Mrs. Wagram’s opinion all evil things and persons 
found lodgement in the great American metropolis, from 
which they issued to injure and destroy, and then returned 
to the city den with the proceeds of the raid. Hav- 
ing lived there for some years she claimed to have per- 
sonal knowledge on the subject, and indeed sometimes as- 
tonished her hearers by the intimate acquaintance she 
showed with what is commonly called the shady pait of 
city life. 

WeU, we can do nothing until Mr. Hastings returns. 
There has been no word since they left ? ” 

“ O, no, no 1 Ma pauvre enfant— my poor child. Per- 
du, perdu ! ” and here the susceptible Frenchwoman, find- 
ing anew the old channel for her grief, from which the 
stream had been temporarily diverted by the fact of the 
robbery, wept and wailed piteously. Her companion tried 
to console her, but felt so utterly miserable himself that he 
was not surprised that the lady saw through the thin vail of 
intention and responded : “ Oui, monsieur, I know you feel 
bad, but courage, monsieur, the lovely child will, Dieu merci, 
come back all right.” 

Forgetting her previous despair, and quite unconscious 
of how inconsistent it must seem to St. Johns, the good- 
hearted housekeeper now talked volubly of her young lady’s 
return. For she knew the Holy Virgin would never let any 
evil happen to so good a daughter and so charming a 
mademoiselle. And she stirred up the smouldering grate 
fire and made the room look bright and cheerful. Just at 
this moment the rapid hoofs of a galloping horse were 
heard crunching the gravel outside, and a strong voice 
shouted for somebody to come. The inmates of the library 
rushed into the hall, filled with excitement, and on the 
housekeeper opening the door, the horseman threw some- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUC4EE. 


21 


thing white on the steps, saying, “ A note for IMr. Hastings,” 
and at once turned his horse’s head and rode swiftly away. 

“ Oh, Meester St. Johns, this is of my young lady — read 
— read — ” and saying something in her native tongue unin- 
telligible to her companion, she handed him the letter 
eagerly. 

‘‘It is addressed to ‘Mr. Hastings or friends,’ and is not 
sealed, so I am justified in reading it, I suppose, at such 
a time as this,” said the conscientious business man, holding 
the opened sheet so as to receive the rays of the hall lamp. 

It was written in a cramped, trembling hand, and was 
as follows : 

“ Mr. Hastings : Your daughter is safe and in the hands of friends. 
She met with an accident, hut will soon be recovered and able to go 
home. Do not try to find her, as it will be useless. Rest quietly and 
she will come to you. ” 

There was no signature, and the writing seemed to be 
that of an aged person, and again Mr. St. Johns thought 
of the face in his dream. Now, we would not have the 
reader suppose that this man of law was a sentimentalist or 
dreamer in the ordinary acceptation of the word. He was 
a practical matter-of-fact man of the world ; and yet there 
was in his nature a well of poetic thought, of which his 
friends, and family, and indeed he himself, were uncon- 
scious. How many such springs there doubtless are in the 
dry desert of business life, which circumstances have choked 
up and prevented coming to the surface, causing an arid 
expanse where otherwise there might have been oases of 
fertility and beauty. Why should humanity so often bar- 
gain the finer impulses, nobler ambitions, and truer in- 
stinct with all the higher possibilities of life, for the golden 
sands of the desert — for the fierce glare of the tropic sun of 
self-seeking ambition, the withering sirocco of passion, or 
the alternate flush and chill of pleasure’s fever ? There Tyas 


22 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 

a something which St. Johns felt he had missed in his life, 
something which would, he felt assured, have made that We 
sweeter and larger, and yet he could give it no name. He 
felt sometimes, as others have felt, that there were certain 
channels of his being which had not been opened up at all. 
Channels of thought, or ways leading possibly into celestial 
regions, which had been choked up, or hedged up, before 
he had fairly entered them. 

“Will there be a future time in which these lost trails 
will be refound, these obstructed ways reopened, so that I 
shall be free to enter on and.pursue them ? ” he often asked 
himself. 

But, while we have been thus digressing, the subject of' 
our attention has been working. A messenger has been 
sent off on horseback to inform Mr. Hastings of his daugh- 
ter’s probable safety, as she had been indirectly heard from. 
This was hastily pencilled on a sheet of paper, the legal 
caution deciding not to risk sending the original, as it 
might serve as a clew in case of subsequent complica- 
tions. 

We will now return to the search-party led by the 
anxious father. The Devil’s Kock was reached without any 
tidings of the missing one, although repeated inquiries 
were made along the route. It was after ten o’clock when 
they arrived at the place of rendezvous, but the other di- 
vision of the company had not yet reached there. Im- 
mediately the torches were lighted, and a thorough search 
in all directions was made through the surrounding brush. 
The wagon road ran west of the rock about one-fourth of 
a mile distant, and between that and the ravine every ob- 
scure place was illumined by the torches, and scrutinized by 
anxious eyes. After some two hours’ hard work the ex- 
plorers returned to the^rock weary and dejected, to find 
the other band of searchers arrived, having been equally 
unsuccessful in their attempts to find trace of the wan- 


THE RUSSIA]^ REFUGEE. 


23 


derer between that point and the bridge. Their number 
had been increased by one, a rather quaint individual who 
lived near the ravine and supported himself and wife by 
hunting and trapping. He was of Yankee stock, and was 
noted for his independent character and strong individuality. 
Having been much thrown with some families of the So- 
ciety of Friends he had partly adopted the plain language, 
rarely addressing or speaking of anyone of his own sex 
except by the first name. Hiram Zadoks paid deference to 
no one, and bluntly spoke his mind on nearty all occasions. 
But he was said to be shrewd and sagacious, and had the 
reputation of being strong as a bear and entirely fearless. 
He was seemingly turned fifty, tall and gaunt, about six 
feet four inches in height, with a very long, thin face sur- 
mounted by an old white soft hat. He rarely wore any 
coat, and his pantaloons just reached the tops' of his cow- 
hide boots. Altogether he was a unique-looking figure. 
But perhaps the first thing to attract the attention of the 
observer was the extraordinary length of his neck. The 
man had the appearance of having on some occasion raised 
his head up to look at something distant, the neck yielding, 
rubber-like, to the effort, and that, somehow, the head had 
become fixed up there and never was able again to come 
down to the level of ordinary mortals. Glancing up at him 
suddenly, you felt as if he was looking down at j^ou from a 
second-story gable window. “ That scarecrow, Hiram,” 
the country folks called him, but Miss Hastings, with Avhom 
he was a great favorite, called him the “ Giraffe,” which 
title had been adopted by polite lips in alluding to him. 
He knew, and was known by everybody, and was generally 
liked. 

“ Darn my butes, friend Alf, but this riles me consider- 
able ; the finest gal in this kintry, but 111 find her ef I hev 
to go to the bottom of that tarnation hole myself.” 

Mr. Hastings cordially but silently pressed the huge 


24 THE KUSSIAN KEEUGEE. 

hand extended to him hy the speaker, and then in a husky 

Yoice said : . t i j 

“ Hiram, I’m afraid slie ” Ins voice failed liim, and 

he finished what he had started to sav by pointing signifi- 
cantly at the hideous abyss below them. 

“ Yaas,” said the other, slowly, “ but 111 bet my best trap 
that she’ll turn up all right yet ; she was too keerful to ” 
and here the speaker threw himself flat on his face on the 
rock and peered long and steadily down into the darkness 
below. His hunter’s eye, trained in looking into obscurity,^ 
presently detected something, and with the words “ Du tell 
he sprang to his feet and immediately tied the end of one of 
the ropes securely around his wnist. All crowded about 
him eager to know what he meant. 

Jest thee fellars hist me deoun thar, an’ be lively abeout 
it too, an’ I’ll maybe hev suthin’ to tell yer on cooming up ; 
leastwise ef the darned string doan’t giv out or thee let go. 

Several of the men tried to pierce the dense gloom below, 
but failed to see anything whatever on which to build hopes; 
all w'as darkness, profundity, and imjDenetrable obscurity. 
But they well knew the Giraffe had wonderful powers of 
sight and hearing, and so were disposed to trust his in- 
stinct, or sensual perception, whichever it might be, espe- 
cially as all traces of the missing one led to this rock and 
then were lost. Even Leo, the mastiff, was at fault here and 
prowled impatiently around. The men let the trapper 
cautiously down, having first taken a turn round a tree near 
at hand. 

“ Don’t take any chances of your life, Hiram,” said Mr. 
Hastings. “ I cannot for a moment bring myself to think 
of my child falling over here, she was too sure-footed ; but I 
would much rather go myself than allow you, if there is any 
special danger.” 

“ Nice job thee’d make deoun thar, friend Alf,” sung up 
Hiram from the darkness below, for he had swung himself 


THE KUSSIAH REFTtGEE. 


25 


off when Mr. Hastings began speaking and was already lost 
in the gloom. After letting out about two hundred feet of 
the rope the strain on it suddenly ceased, and the holders 
knew that the “ Giraffe ” had reached support of some kind. 

“ It was mighty good fortin’ to bring so much of rope 
with us. Three hundred feet, I should guess,” remarked 
one of the men. 

“Yes,” replied James Mdrtin, a swarthy athletic-looking 
young man, who was employed as coachman and head man 
generally about the Hermitage. “ I looked out for that, 
and went over and borrowed the new coil that John got 
lately for Mi'. Willowby.” 

Presently the group on the rock heard in the intense 
stillness of the night some quick, sharp sounds of either 
anger or pain, or both, and then a series of snarling growls. 
They bent over and listened intently. There was evidently 
a commotion of some kind below, but so far down that it 
was impossible to determine Avhat it might be. 

“I’m afraid the brave fellow is in danger of some kind,” 
said Mr. Hastings. 

“ Trust old scarecrow to take care of himself anywhere 
and everywhere,” remarked the man nearest to him. 

“ Yes,” returned another, “ he don’t fear nothing,” and 
here he was proceeding to tell of some wonderful bit of en- 
durance and courage on the part of the “ Giraffe,” when the 
noise below suddenly ceased, and the rope was jerked fiercely, 
the signal agreed on, and the men began to pull up with a 
will. It was slow work, for there was danger of cutting 
the, rope against the projecting points and edges of rock 
if pulled too rapidly. Presently Hiram’s voice w'as heard. 

“Be kearful thar, or thee’ll hurt the baby, haw, haw, 
haw ! I guess you fellers tho’t I’d feound the black boy 
adeoun thar,” and here the speaker was seen emerging from 
the Cimmerian darkness in which he had been engulfed. 

A spontaneous burst of astonishment saluted his appear- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


26 

ance. His hat was gone, the long black hair scattered in 
all directions, and his face hardly recognizable for the blood 
which covered it, his shirt was in fragments, but despite ap- 
pearances the man was there seemingly as vigorous as ever. 
His left hand clutched the rope, while the right was firmly 
clasped round the throat of an enormous catamount. Hiiam 
dashed the animal on the rock. 

“ Darn my butes, friend AJf, but I kind o’ tho’t the old 
boy had come for yours trooly, when that fellar tackeled me 
adeoun thar. I felt kind o’ weak abeout tha jints when he 
tuk holt ; acted as if he’d kinder come to stay. Humsoever, 

I kind o’ gethered myself together, an’ seys I, ‘ Hiram, don’t 
thee be a dumed fool; this b’ain’t the feller the parsons 
preach ’bout, cos that feller’s got no claws, an’ this critter 
hes,’ says I ‘ This is a cat, thee bet thy butes ; an’ Hiram 
don’t give in to no cat, not ef he knows hisself, an’ maybe 
he does.’ Meanwhile I was a kinder feelin’ for the dunied 
critter’s necktye, to get a holt. An’ durn his pictur, he was 
playing kinder lively with his eye-openers onto my looking- 
glass. ‘ Darn thy shoemaker an’ thy dentist,’ says I, an’ thin 
I jest got my feelers ’bout the critter’s swaller, an jerked 
the rope.” 

During this extraordinary recital of his sanguinary strug- 
gle, the trapper went through a series of ludicrous twists 
and movements intended to illustrate his story. The poor 
fellow was severely scratched and bitten, and only his 
courage and strength had saved him. His wounds were 
temporarily attended to, and a horse-blanket was wrapped 
around him in spite of his remonstrances. 

“ Durn my pictur’, does thee think I’m a womankind ? ” 

Blit here something suddenly crossed his memory, and 
his voice became husky, as he took from his boot a glove, 
and held it toward Mr. Hastings. 

“ Friend Alf, I picked up this ’ere fist- toggery, an’ 
kinder think ” — but the honest fellow could go no further. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


27 


He could not tell that father all he dreaded. His quick 
eye had detected the fresh surface left by the land slide, 
and this tempted him to the adventure, which might have 
terminated so tragically for himself. He had, with his 
maiwellous visual power, for he refused to take a torch or 
lantern, traced the slide until it was arrested, then found 
the glove and other evidences of some one having been 
there, and immediately after was attacked by the cat. But 
he was much puzzled to account satisfactorily to himself 
for Elsie’s disappearance ; for if, as he doubted not, she had 
gone down with the slide, why was she not there now, for 
it was broad enough to hold her, and had certainly been 
trampled by human feet. 

A deep silence fell upon the party, and for some seconds 
no one moved. The father seemed paralyzed by the blow, 
for the glove admitted only one explanation. He had had 
such absolute trust in his child’s skill, agility, and prudence, 
that, until now, he had been the most hopeful of the party. 
But he was not a man to remain inactive long, and was first 
to break the silence. The voice was very low and thin, as 
if spoken with effort. 

“ It is useless, my friends, staying here. This brave man 
has partly, at least, solved the problem for us. We wiU re- 
turn home and obtain such rest as we may, and to-morrow 
try and get to the bottom of the gorge.” 

The wagons were at once got ready, and the horses’ heads 
turned homeward. Hiram was to go home with them, as 
Mr. Hastings insisted, to have his wounds dressed, and also, 
as his counsel in regard to the proposed work of to-morrow 
would be invaluable, even if incapacitated from taking part 
himself. Being near daybreak, almost five o’clock, few of 
them really expected to obtain any sleep more than might 
be snatched in the home drive. 

Suddenly, as they were just starting off, Hiram burst out 
with, “ Burn my butes, but there’s a critter cornin’ this way, 


THE KUSSIAK REFUGEE. 


28 

all kicketty-wlioop.” Each one tried to listen, but although 
the night was unusually quiet, not a sound could any one 
else hear. “An’ he’s got a man atop on him too, and lies 
just acoming for all git out,” persisted the Giraffe. 

“ It m|y be some one seeking us,” said Mr. Hastings, at 
length, while a gleam of hope seemed to light his face, and 
as suddenly died away again. 

“ Let us remain where we are for a few moments, di- 
rected he. 

Now, some of the others declared they could detect a 
horse’s galloping feet, and soon all heard, and in a brief 
time the sound seemed to leave the road above and come 
toward them. 

“ Is Mr. Hastings here ? ” shouted the rider, emerging 
from the darkness like a messenger from another sphere, 
“I’ve a paper for him.” 

“ Ah, Will, is it you ? ” said that gentleman, as he hastily 
seized the paper. He appeared to glance quickly over its 
contents by the flickering light of the torch held for him 
by one of the men, and then the paper fell from his nerve- 
less grasp, and he was seen to stagger, and would have fallen, 
only for the ready hands which caught him. 

“Lay ’im on his back. He’s only kinder wilted. Burn 
my butes, but I’m kinder sorter myself,” chimed in the 
Scarecrow. 

“I feel ashamed of myself, but the revulsion was too 
much. I’m all right now,” said the proprietor of the Her- 
mitage, sitting up. “Well, my friends, this paper tells me 
that my daughter has been heard from, and is safe. Thank 
God for it,” he added, reverently. 

“Hurrah ! ” exclaimed Hiram, and presently a shout arose 
which vibrated on the night air like a gunpowder explosion. 

Rapid time was made in reaching the Hermitage that 
morning, for daylight streaked the east as they entered the 
avenue which led to the mansion-house. 


CHAPTER m. 


THE MYSTERY. 

“ Yes, there were some valuable papers there, and some 
family relics, and about one hundred dollars in money, but 
these losses are very trivial to me at the present moment,” 
remarked the owner of the Hermitage, when informed by his 
friend of the robbery. “ Strange that Elsie does not send 
us further word, or else come herself,” he continued, glanc- 
ing at the clock on the mantel, which showed 4 p.m. of the 
day following the incidents mentioned in the last chapter. 

“ Have you any suspicion of where she may be ? ” in- 
quired St. Johns. 

“ None whatever. Elsie has acquaintances and friends 
all over the country and among all classes. My opinion is, 
that falling over the cliff she was caught about the place 
Hiram found the glove, and that her cries attracted notice 
from some passer-by, who succeeded in rescuing her from 
her perilous position, and some of these people near the 
glen are wonderfully expert in dealing with accidents of 
this nature. And it is probable that she was temporarily in- 
jured — a sprained ankle or something of that sort — and is 
now at one of the cottages.” 

“But why should she not at once notify you of her 
whereabouts ? ” said his companion. 

“I don’t know ; that is the mystery which enshrouds this 
thing,” said Mr. Hastings, bluntly, turning towai'd the win- 
dow to hide his feeling of vexation. 

About 8 P.M. a note was found on the library floor, evi- 


30 


THE EUSSIAN’ EEFUGEE. 


dently thrown there while the gentlemen were at dinner. 
It was in Elsie’s handwriting, and read as follows : 

“ Dear Father : Do not be anxious about me, I am safe and well 
with the exception of a sprained ankle. I am with kind friends, 
but circumstances forbid my leaving here or disclosing my retreat for 
the present. You can trust me, father, for you know me too well to 
doubt me. I met with a terrible fall and was insensible for some 
time, how long I do not know, and was wonderfully saved. Ever 
your loving child. Elsie.” 

“Nothing for it but patience, I suppose ; read that St. 
Johns, and suggest what you think had better be done.” 

“ If she is detained against her will and has penned that 
under compulsion, the sooner something is done the bet- 
ter,” said the lawyer, handing back the note. 

“Perhaps that wild fellow you were telling me about 
could advise us ; his class is often equal to an emergency 
of this kind when more cultivated brains fail. It is largely 
a question of knowledge of locality, as she is evidently not 
far off.” 

“A good thought. I will call him up,” touching the 
bell. “ Mary, please tell Hiram I want to see him a mo- 
ment, that is,” he added, “ poor fellow, if he is able to be 
up after such a terrible experience.” 

“ O, yes sir, he’s up some time ago, and is now getting 
ready to go home.” 

In a few moments a strong knock was heard at the 
door, and in walked the “ Scarecrow.” 

“Well, Hiram my poor fellow, how are you to-day?” 
said Mi\ Hastings, kindly, giving him his hand. 

“Wall, Squire, I feel kinder twisted up, sorter I’d been 
drawed through a fuz bush. Ha, ha ! Didn’t she go fur 
me, I guess ? But it’d take mor’n one cat to get away with 
the ‘ Giraffe.’ Ha, ha ! ” 

One peculiarity of the trapper was that he was as proud 
of this title, as a blue-blooded scion of European aristocracy 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


31 


might be of the title of ‘ lord,’ or an American of ‘ general ’ 
— because it had been given him by Elsie Hastings, who 
held first place in Hiram’s estimation. 

A most singular creature,” said the city man to himself, 
regarding him curiously. 

Strange and weird looking always, the Scarecrow ” cer- 
tainly merited the title on this occasion. Martin had loaned 
him a shirt and jacket, which being much too small for him 
only seemed to bring out the grotesqueness of his figure, 
and his great length of limb and neck. His face was al- 
most covered with strips of black plaster, hiding the 
furrows made by the cruel talons of the cat. But it was 
evident, in spite of his confident bearing, that the brave 
fellow was feeling the effects of his experience, and needed 
more rest. 

“ Hiram, I sent for you because I heard you were up. 
But you really ought to be in bed. This is my friend Mr. 
St. Johns.” 

“ Put it thar,” said the trapper, extending an enormous 
hand, in which he fairly covered up the small one of the 
lawyer, giving it a squeeze which made him wince and 
nurse the abused member for some moments. “ Ony friend 
of Alf’ Hastings, is friend o’ mine. Has thee heard of the 
young woman, friend Alf? Ony news mor’n ther gotten 
by the rock ? ” 

“ Yes, and that’s what I want to talk with you about. 
My daughter writes me herseff this time, to say she is laid 
up with a sprained ankle, and is with friends, but she does 
not, and evidently is not permitted to give the names of 
those she is with.” 

“ Du tell, friend Alf ; ’pears to me kinder odd like,” and 
here Hiram dropped into a chair and seemed to be lost in 
thought. 

“ Suthin’s got to be done, an’ Hiram’s the boy to do it,” 
he exclaimed at length, as if debating with himself. “ The 


32 the RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 

auld critter ; durn my butes, Hiram, thee’s been a dream- 
ing-” 

“ Have you any idea of where Elsie is?” said Mr. Hast- 
ings, quietly. “You have known her from the time she 
was a child, and now I want you to help me find her, be- 
cause she may be detained against her will somewhere.” 

“ Know her, know Elsie Hastings — durn my butes, friend 
John,” looking in a friendly way toward the lawyer, “ I’ve 
known that gal sence she was knee high to a bumble bee. 
Ha ! ha ! ” And here the honest fellow laughed quietly 
to himseK, “ Durn em, ef I didn’t teach her all she knows — 
birds, nests, fleowers ; way up the Big Hole, bosses. Ha ! 
ha ! I’ve tooken her on these sholers mile an’ mile, rain 
an’ shine. Know little Elsie ! I should think I did.” 

“ Well, my friend, with your help I think we can find 
her. Suppose you go and get some sleep and rest, and to- 
morrow morning we’ll start.” 

“ No,” said the woodsman firmly, “ friend Alf, thou must 
stay here,” and then thinking he had perhaps hurt the 
father’s feelings, he added, “ leastwise the morn’ll show 
what’s best.” 

“ All right, Hiram, good-night.” 

On inquiring for Hiram at breakfast next morning, the 
report came that he had departed long before it was light, 
and had left a piece of a shingle on which Mr, Hastings 
with some difficulty . made out the words, “Friend Alf, 
good-by. The best dugs don’t alters hunt in company. 
Here from yours truly, soon. Hiram.” 

“ What does the fellow mean. Mi*. Hastings ? Do you 
suppose he is to be trusted ? ” 

“ I would risk my life with him, St. Johns ; but he is as ec- 
centric as he is honest and brave, and that is saying much.” 

“ But do you imagine he has any idea of where Elsie is? 
He certainly acted as if he did last night.” 

“ You cannot tell anything about him, he is as cunning 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


33 


as the animals he traps, but I suspect he has some idea 
which he is going to act on, and preferred to be alone,’’ 
returned the host. “ However, my hands are practically 
tied. Wherever Elsie is she is not exactly her own mis- 
tress, I know. If this were Italy, I should be sure she 
was a captive in the hands of banditti, who were holding 
her for a ransom. But no such organization exists around 
here that I know of. I only wish she was home safely.” 

The guest noticed how worn and anxious his host looked, 
having evidently slept but little if any since the disappear- 
ance of his child. 

“ But in my own selfish anxiety I came near forgetting 
that IVIi’S. St. Johns and the girls are to be here to-day. I 
must give some directions about the carriage meeting them 
at the depot,” suddenly remarked Mr. Hastings. 

“ Thanks, but do not let this be a burden on you ; they 
can easily find a conveyance. In relation to Elsie, however, 
let me make a suggestion. May I send to New York for a 
couple of sharp detectives that I know of ? Possibly they 
may be able to bring this matter to a crisis.” 

“ No, I thank you, St. Johns, at least not at present, for 
she may be acting entirely of her own free will in this 
matter, and I would not for the world manifest suspicion 
toward those to whom I may be under immense obligation 
for saving her life.” 

“Yes, but I can’t for the life of me see the kindness or sense 
of keeping an injured girl away from home, where she could 
be so much better nursed. Let me send for the officers.” 

“ Not yet ; we will wait a little and see what Hiram may 
do, and then, Elsie may write again. If they were not 
friendly she could not have written at all ; we must not 
forget that. I will go and order the carriage, and as it is 
fine suppose we go and meet the ladies ? ” 

“That’ll suit me exactly,” returned his companion, as 

Mr. Hastings left the room. 

3 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE CITY FOLKS. 

Mr. St. Johns, please come into the hall, sir, Mr. Hast- 
ings wants to speak to you.” 

“ Why, St. Johns, we shan’t have our ride after all, here’s 
your wife and daughters coming up the avenue.” 

Presently the carriage stopped at the hall door, and a 
rather foppish-looking young man sprang down from beside 
the coachman and shook hands heartily with the two gen- 
tlemen who stood waiting to receive the guests. 

“Deah me, how fortunate to find you both at home. 
Mamma said she was sure you would be out somewhere.” 

“ Why, Ruskin, how well you look, and Mr. Hastings 
too ; why we haven’t met for an age. You remember ‘ Ange- 
lina’ and ‘ Alfarina,’ do you not ? Not so ‘ comme il faut ’ 
as one could wish, but we are travellers, you know.” 

The good lady fairly beamed on her host and led the 
way into the house with Mi’. Hastings, while the girls fol- 
lowed demurely with their father and brother. The elder, 
Angelina, led a small pug dog by a pretty blue ribbon 
fastened to a fancy brass collar. 

“Well, pa, we did take an earlier train than we expected, 
for Angie had thought perhaps Napoleon would stand the 
fatigue of the Journey better in the morning.” 

“ What a fib, Roland. Don’t you mind him, father, he’s 
always poking fun at ‘ Napy,’ isn’t he, dear ?” 

Where is Elsie ? I can t rest till I’ve seen the dear girl. 
What a perfect treasure she is. I feel a mother’s interest in 
her, and with your permission will cai’ry her off to town 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


35 


some of these days. Mademoiselle has such a very fine as- 
sortment this season.” 

Mr. Hastings’ brow clouded a little as he answered 
gravely, “ I am really glad that you take so much interest 
in my motherless girl, but she is not home at present ; an 
accident, a rather singular experience detains her, which 
Mr. St. Johns will explain to you while I give some direc- 
tions about your rooms to Mrs. Wagram.” 

Two tall, handsome girls were the Misses St. Johns. An- 
gelina, a blonde, with regular features and oval face, would 
have passed almost any ordeal of criticism and been pro- 
nounced charming. Her neat gray travelling costume 
fitted her shapely figure exquisitely, and she walked with a 
grace and style that a princess or any other lady might have 
envied. A slight affectation of manner rather detracted 
from the first impression generally produced on seeing her, 
but in spite of this she was a favorite in society and al- 
most worshipped at home. Alfarina was somewhat shorter 
than her sister, though still about the average height of 
women, a brunette, wuth good features, but rarely or ever 
attracting much comment when Angelina was near. Fond of 
society, but being less sought after than “Angie,” the home 
name of the elder, Alfarina St. Johns was much more dom- 
estic in her tastes, and devoted to her father, for whom she 
frequently acted as amanuensis. Under different influences 
she would have made a sensible, affectionate girl, but the 
fashion-loving mother had gradually moulded her to the 
ideal which was enshrined in Madame Grundy’s temple 
until the true nature was so obscured that few knew or sus- 
pected that she was capable of aught else than the butter- 
fly life she led. Her father was one of these few, and Elsie 
Hastings was another. 

“ If any serious misfortune should overtake me, Alf is the 
only one I could depend on in my own family,” St. Johns 
said to his friends on one occasion. 


86 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


IVIrs. St. Johns was much shocked to hear of the recent 
events, and Elsie’s disappearance. 

“ The dear child ! She was always so venturesome, you 
know, ]VIr. Hastings,” looking at her host somewhat re- 
proachfully. “ I always warned you that something would 
happen if that darhng girl was aUowed to run around the 
country by herself. Excuse me for speaking so plainly, 
but young ladies, in my opinion, should rarely venture out 
alone, even for half an hour. It is un — un ’ 

“ Unladyhke,” suggested Mr. Hastings, smiling. “ I know 
you must think so, but I should have had a fine time if I had 
made that rule with Elsie. No, I determined she should 
grow up naturally and unfettered, excepting the restraints 
necessary for right guidance, and so far, I think she has jus- 
tified my judgment.” 

“Yes, my dear sir, but only see what it has come to ! ” 
and here the good lady raised the scented cambric to her 
eyes. 

The truth was, Mrs. St. Johns had long wished for some 
opportunity to impress her friend mth the falsity of his 
theories concerning female education, and the time seemed 
to have finally arrived, and she was not quite generous 
enough to avoid taking advantage of it. Really fond of 
Elsie, she longed to introduce her to the fashionable world, 
clad in all the finery which the mademoiselle’s deft fin- 
gers know so well how to fabricate. Elsie’s bright ways, 
springy, active movements, and splendid health were re- 
garded by the matron as being of little worth — sadly 
unfashionable and even rustic. The languid air, stately 
slow step, and pale complexion of her daughters, were 
considered as being much more desirable in the eyes of this 
foolish mother than the fine physical vigor of the country 
maiden. Elsie painted beautifully, sketching from nature, 
but of instrumental music she knew little. Having no taste 
for the piano, her father early determined that she should 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


37 


never waste time and strength by practising four or five 
hours a day at what was useless to her, and would inevitably 
be abandoned when she became her own mistress. 

‘‘ Piano practice is one of the means by which bodily 
health is seriously impaired, the intellect dulled, and pre- 
cious time worse than wasted, in scores of families. We see 
the fruits daily of this baleful custom of compelling those 
who have no musical ability to spend thus the fleeting hours 
of their invaluable spring-time. But still the immolation of 
the victims goes on. Mere mechanical music, mere instru- 
mental playing, T\dthout soul in it, is torture to the hearer, 
and weariness to the performer, and in eight out of ten 
cases the music we hear is precisely this, and nothing more. 
Ability to produce natural music or singing is presumptive 
evidence that there is a basis for a musical education, but, 
if this is absent, I should hesitate very seriously about per- 
mitting a child of mine to study music at all, supposing 
she earnestly desired it herself, otherwise decidedly not. 
But I would have all children taught to sing, if possible, so 
soon as they can articulate.” 

This was Mr. Hastings’ answer in part to a letter received 
some years before from Mrs. St. Johns urging him to send 
Elsie to the city school for the musical advantages. The 
lady was amazed at such heterodoxy and used to show the 
letter in confidence to her lady friends as a natural curios- 

ity. 

‘‘To think of anyone in this civilized country, and in this 
advanced age of the world, entertaining such views.” 

“ Poor girl, what is to become of her with such a father ? ” 
were the ordinary comments. 

“Why,” said Mrs. Euphrasia Landis, of Landis Place, 
“ when my Minetta told me she did not care about studying 
music, I said at once, ‘never let me hear that again, or off 
you go to boarding-school.’ I employed Signor Th6rry, and 
made her practise four hours a day, and I flatter myself 


38 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


few girls of her age excel her.” But the pale face, stoop- 
ing, round shoulders, and languid air of the coerced musi- 
cian, told in eloquent words the price paid for the useless 
accomplishment. 

“ My daughter’s music for ten years,” said a pompous 
father one day to Mr. Hastings, “ cost me just $5,000.” 

Mr. Hastings, who knew the girl detested the piano, 
could not help replying, “ And cost her ten thousand un- 
happy hours. I’ll be bound. Surely such a price in money 
and suffering is too much to pay for any accomplishment 
on earth.” 

The visitors soon made themselves at home, for the house 
was large, roomy, and delightfully located, and Mr. Hast- 
ings was a model host. The only drawback was the ab- 
sence of Elsie, which kept all in a state of half-nervous ex- 
pectancy. Mr. St. Johns still urged sending for a city 
detective, and in this was supported by his whole family. 
Boland St. Johns, who has been rather ignored so far, 
especially insisted on it. 

“ Eeally, my deah Mr. Hastings, you ought to yield to 
father in this, for he is a lawyer, you know, and understands 
the way of these — aw' wretches. And to think of your beau- 
tiful daughter being detained by those scamps, whoever 
they are, is enough to make me turn detective myself, aw.” 
Saying which the young man appeared so warlike that his 
mother regarded him admiringly, remarking : 

“You look just like your grand-uncle, the Admiral. 
Doesn’t he Buskin ? ” While the younger sister laughed 
merrily. 

“ O yes, Boland, but I think you would do better to de- 
tect a pretty girl in a ball-room than in a hiding-place in 
these mountains. Besides, it might be dangerous, you 
know ; ” and here she imitated the affected mincing tone 
of the youth to his great disgust. 

“ Well, mamma, you know Boland is no more fit for such 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


39 


work than I am, and it sounds so droll to hear him talk in 
that bombastic style,” she responded to her mother’s dis- 
pleased look. 

“ I am sure your brother is as brave as a lion if he was 
only tried, and indeed I hope he never will be.” 

“ But, mamma, what’s the use of courage if one never 
uses it? Besides, one cannot be sure of possessing it,” 
persisted Alf. 

Finally, as nothing more was heard of or from Elsie, 
and a week had now elapsed, Mr. Hastings almost decided 
to allow St. Johns to send to the city for his officers. 

“We will delay until noon, and if nothing contra-indi- 
cates in the interval you can order your detectives here at 
once.” 

“ Do, Mr. Hastings, allow me to write now. Where is the 
use of longer delay and running greater risk ? Every day 
that passes but complicates the case. ” 

“That appears reasonable, but I wish to send a mes- 
senger to Hiram’s cottage to ascertain if he has been home 
since leaving here. I still have some hopes in that direc- 
tion.” 

“ Pray don’t tell that queer fish anything about sending 
for detectives,” urged the law;y"er in evident alarm. 

“ Oh, no, I promise you that, unless the officers themselves 
agree to it.” 


CHAPTER V. 


“A NEW WORLD.” 

We will now return to the object of the anxiety which 
more or less possessed the inmates of the Hermitage. We 
will try to follow the fortunes of the young lady who in fal- 
ling into the Great Ravine has also in a certain sense fallen 
out of our narrative. When Elsie awoke to consciousness, 
before moving or opening her eyes, she lay for some mo- 
ments in a sort of lethargic condition, as people often do 
under such circumstances, trying to recall the past, and 
realize what had happened. Presently, in a confused way, 
the events of the morning came to her. The parting with 
her father and Mr. St. Johns, the ramble along the brow of 
the ravine, the descent from the flat rock to get the ferns, 
the giving way of the ground, and the blankness and 
vacancy which followed. And now where was she ? Was 
she at the bottom of the ravine, or had somebody found 
her and taken her home. Was her father wildly searching 
for her, or had he not yet missed her ? How long since 
this happened ? These thoughts rapidly coursed through 
her brain, and she almost dreaded to open her eyes. Wher- 
ever she was, howevef^'her instinct told her that the light 
which came to her through the closed lids, was not sunlight ; 
it was artificial light. She felt sure, then, she was in some 
dwelling. Yet she feared to open her eyes. Sensation re- 
turned slowly, and slie realized that she was lying on some 
kind of couch. By a great effort, for she seemed to herself 
at first as if she could not move at all, she grasped the sub- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


41 


stance on ■whicli her band lay, and felt that it was soft to 
the touch, but fui-ry, like an animal. She shuddered, and 
drew back the hand by a convulsive effort. What if she 
should be still in the ravine, and this some wild animal 
which had crept alongside of her for warmth ? Then she 
remembered the light, but was afraid to move a limb. An 
undefined fear possessed her ; perhaps her fall had para- 
lyzed her, and she would be a hapless, helpless cripple for 
life. Something warm touched her hand, and a voice which 
seemed very small, something like a doll’s voice, she 
thought, said : 

“ Open your eyes, my daughter ; fear nothing, you ai-e 
among friends.” 

A great revulsion of feeling took place, the blood seemed 
to surge tumultuously through her whole being — the leth- 
argy gave way, and she opened her eyes. The light blinded 
her, and she quickly closed them again. She felt like a 
prisoner who, by one superlative effort, has disrupted ten 
thousand delicate bands which held from liberty. Like a 
bird which has just freed itself from the entangling meshes 
of a net, and yet, being temporarily exhausted by the effort, 
falls back again amid the broken threads of its prison- 
house, seemingly helpless as before, but with this glorious 
consciousness of difference — ‘ The door is now open, the 
w^ay free to life and liberty.’ Elsie felt no longer in that 
dreadful bondage of negative condition, uncertainty, and 
doubt. The voice and resulting effort on her part in re- 
sponse had made her once more a citizen of life’s common- 
wealth, and had scattered wide the doleful, half-formed 
apprehensions which, like black, evil-eyed spirits, had flown 
athwart the dim twilight of her awakening. 

“ How like,” she thought, for her mind now began to act 
vividly, “is my condition to that of some poor soul plunged 
in the darkness and bondage of ignorance, despair, or per- 
plexity, which hears, not audibly in a physical sense, per- 


42 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


liaps, but someliGW, in the silences of the soul, the still 
small voice of guidance, at whose electric tones obscurity 
clears into brightness and noon of night becomes noon of 
day. The labyrinth opens, the paths broaden, and it 
presses onward, with bounding, elastic tread, into the un- 
known but now trusted future.” 

Some of our - experiences cannot be measured by time. 
Seconds have the import and meaning of months, and scores 
of ordinary life-atmospheres seem to be, by some mysteri- 
ous alchemic process in the secret laboratory of the spirit, 
compressed into the fleeting breath of a moment. Our 
being seems to be filled and expanded with celestial oxygen, 
giving an exhilaration which is a foretaste of paradise. 
Such w^as the almost ecstatic state in which this high- 
strung but thoroughly healthy nature found herself now. 
It was the border-land, the medium country, which, though 
lighted by Heaven, is still Earth. Dear Mother Eai’th ! It 
is something to find, after a perilous trial in which we have 
almost touched the “ somewhere ” of our often musings, that 
we are still with thee, on thee, and of thee. Dear Mother 
Earth ! With all thy trials, disappointments, vexations, 
shortcomings, sorrows, and bereavements, we love thee 
still, and perhaps best when near leaving thee. Elsie felt 
as if the coin of her nature, of her spirit-life, had been 
sent to the mint and been restamped, and in a sense was 
brightened and renewed — again to pass into the same old 
currency of life, but not by any means the same old coin. 
She was conscious that she had received an impress, that 
she had gone forw^ard, as it were, and gained a maturity of 
mental and spiritual experience at a bound. Had been, so 
to speak, promoted high up, without passing through the 
intermediate grades. She had been face to face with 
Death, and the cold shadow of the pinion of the King of 
Terrors, had chilled her so that the returning warmth of 
life s sunshine w’as sufficient to thrill her with happiness 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


43 


which she could neither define nor grasp, only feel it and 
live in it. 

Again that dread of breaking the spell, of facing reality, 
came over her. O that she could stay thus forever ! Could 
Heaven give more ? Suddenly strains of delicious music 
filled the air, and her half-awakened senses merged them- 
selves in enraptured listening. Calm, quiescent, still, 
yet intensely receptive, she was unconscious of aught but 
the floods of harmony which rolled in plaintive waves over 
her soul. Now tender and pathetic as a mother’s lullaby, 
very near ; then far ofl', as the stately swell of a rhythmic 
ocean stealing with measured steps upon a distant shore. 
The sounds ceased ; and, obeying an impulse which could 
not be resisted, she murmured, startled at the sound of 
her own voice, as if another owmed and used it, “Play,.0 
play that once more, and then I can wdllingly die.” 

“ Not die, but live, my daughter,” said the voice she had 
heard before. “It shall be as you wish.” And again melody 
held her caj^tive. As the final strains lost themselves to 
her the voice came again, and now she noticed its quality, 
soft and subdued, giving her confidence. 

“ Come back, my child, to life and friends. All is well ! ” 
And at the same moment a hand was passed lightly over her 
head, and at once all doubt, confusion, and languor disap- 
peared, and she opened her eyes wide and looked up. Her 
glance rested at once on the finest and most expressive face 
she thought she had ever seen. It w^as an aged face, for it 
was framed in snow-white hair and beard, the latter reach- 
ing to the waist. But the eyes were black as coal and 
keenly bright ; the whole expression was humane and be- 
nevolent in a marked degree. Smiling winningly, the owner 
of the face clasped her hand kindly, saying : 

“Do not trouble yourself, my daughter, to ask any ques- 
tions now. I will go and bring you some needful food, and 
when you have gathered strength I will tell you aU.” Say- 


44 


THE RUSSTAH REFUGEE. 


ing which, he quietly lifted a curtain near her couch and 
passed out of sight. 

She raised herself up, with a little difficulty, into a sitting 
posture and quietly surveyed the room. It was a singular- 
looking apartment of a very peculiar shape, or rather having 
no special shape. It was quite extensive, and there seemed 
to be no doors, only curtains were hung around the walls, 
and large handsome skins of wild and tame animals. An 
immense open fireplace occupied one end of the chamber, 
and the bright wood-fire looked cheery and homelike. The 
couch on which she rested was formed entirely of soft skins, 
and she smiled at the vague terror which had beset her be- 
wildered mind, a short time since, when she had grasped the 
fur. The furniture was as singular as the room. A long 
handsome table, of different kinds of wood and with sin- 
gular!;^ twisted legs, rested at the side of the room, opposite 
her couch. A number of very cosy-looking chairs, fantasti- 
cally carved and having gnarled and twisted legs, like the 
table, were scattered about, all of them being cushioned with 
skins. Everything wore an appearance of comfort and ease 
and softness which was soothing to the new inmate. She 
now looked curiousty to the floor, and found it was evi- 
dently of sand and partly covered with skins. But on look- 
ing up, in a listless way, at the roof she noticed that it ^ 
sparkled in the glancing firelight like a million clusters of 
diamonds. Long pendants of bright, glittering icicles hung 
from the roof. Icicles ? No ; but very like icicles. A won- 
derful roof ! She had never seen anything like it. Altogether 
the place was totally unlike anything her previous experi- 
ence had brought her in contact with, and again the ques- 
tion pressed upon her, “ Where can I be ? ” She began 
to feel weak again, and lay down on her skin couch and 
closed her eyes. Presently a low breathing reached her ear, 
and again she looked around somewhat in vague alarm. 
Finally the sound led her glance to the fireplace, near which 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


45 


she saw a form which before sh§ had taken for a skin thrown 
loosely on the floor. She could detect a sort of movement 
now, and she was satisfied this was the source of the breath- 
ing. Some sort of animal she thought, and half feared to 
breathe lest she should awaken it. Looking fixedly, she 
could now notice the regular’ rise and fall of the deep, broad 
chest. 

“ I believe it is a dog,” she said, softly, and her nervous- 
ness vanished. She had no fear of dogs ; they had been 
her friends and companions from babyhood. Her thoughts 
went out to home and her own faithful Hugo, and she felt 
that if he had been with her things might have turned out 
better. ‘‘ But lam safe and in good hands,” she said. “I 
wonder if I broke any bones, anyway? I don't feel any 
pain,” and here she moved her limbs cautiously ; but a 
sharp twinge in the right foot made her cry out involun- 
tarily, which brought the sleeping animal at a bound into 
the middle of the apartment. He was a mastiff of huge pro- 
portions, fawn-colored, with a fine intelligent head. Fixing 
his lai’ge, lustrous eyes full upon her in a questioning but 
friendly sort of way, and wagging his tail, he advanced 
slowly toward her and put his great jaws into her out- 
stretched hand. 

' “ Poor fellow, good doggie ! ” she said, soothingly ; “it 
feels almost like being home again to see you.” 

Engaged in cai’essing the dog, she did not notice his 
master had entered the room and was gazing fondly at 
them both. 

“ If anything else had been needed to make me feel a 
father’s interest in my young friend and patient, it would 
be the interest you feel in the other animals. Not lower 
animals, as some call them, for these devoted creatures are 
often superior to men — to many men certainly, and more 
faithful than most.” 

So saying, the speaker fondly stroked the docile animal, 


46 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


whose eye never left his face while speaking, as if he, too, 
understood and agreed with what had been said. 

“Go to your place, Alex ! ” upon which the mastiff re- 
turned at once to his rug by the fire, and, with his head be- 
tween his paws, attentively watched his master. “ I thought 
I heard your voice, my child, and as if in pain,” he said, in- 
quiringly.^ 

“ I moved my foot and it hurt me a little. Is it ” 

and here she paused, hesitatingly. 

“ I know what you would ask,” he said, kindly. ‘‘ No, it 
is not broken, but very badly sprained. You must thank the 
Good Spirit and your angel that no bones were broken. 
You had a terrible fall, but we will not talk of that now ; 
you must have some nourishment.” And again he disap- 
peared, to return immediately bearing a small tray on 
which was some simple but appetizing food and milk. The 
tray was placed on a small table, also from the inner room. 
Encouraged by her kind host, Elsie found the simple fare 
delicious, and her hunger satisfied, she felt her old life and 
vigor again, and now longed for an opportunity to know 
how she came to her present abode, and how long she 
had been there, and a thousand other things — prominent 
among which was the intense desire to know if her father 
had been communicated with. One thing she felt certain 
of — her host was a foreigner, certainly not an American, 
and yet he spoke a very pure English, almost too pure for 
a native, contradictory as it might seem. 

“ Nadia will come in now, and help to make you feel 
more comfortable ; but I am afraid she cannot answer any of 
your questions, as she does not speak English, so you must 
save the questions for me when I return,” he said, smilingly. 

“ Not speak any English ! ” and making a desperate effort 
to overcome her reserve, she asked, impulsively, as he was 
raising the curtain to leave the room, “ What language 
does she speak, then ? ” 


THE KUSSIAlsr REFUGEE. 


47 


He looked at her a moment fixedly, as if to notice the 
effect of his answer, and then said, quietly and gravely, and 
she thought with a slight hesitation, “ Kussian,” and the 
curtain dropped, and she was again alone with Alex, the 
dog. 

wonder how badly my foot is injured?’’ she said, 
audibly ; and the dog iDricked up his ears at her voice, and 
slightly wagged his tail, as if he would like to tell, but 
must not, and yet looking at her as if he knew all about it. 
Throwing aside the light, fleecy covering of exquisite snowy 
whiteness which lay over the lower part of the couch, she 
carefully moved her feet, very cautiously, and keeping them 
closely together, gradually she brought them to the floor. 
But no sooner had she done so than the sense of fulness 
and weight and dull pain in the right foot and ankle warned 
her that it was badly swollen. A light footstep and the 
raising of the curtain drew her attention to a small, rosy 
face peering at her curiously. Elsie held out her hand 
impulsively, and a bright little maiden of some twelve 
summers sprang into the room, seized the proffered hand 
and raised it to her lips, at the same time uttering, “ Slava 
Bogu ! ” in a charming, childlike way. Elsie put her arm 
round the giiTs neck and kissed her warmly, which seemed 
gi'eatly to delight the little woman, for she chattered in a 
very animated way, and the accents of that strange tongue 
fell like music on the listener’s ear, although she did not 
understand a word. 

Are you Nadia ? ” said Elsie, sounding the name as she 
had heard it spoken by the old man. The rosy-cheeked 
maiden shook her head, saying : 

“ No, no,” very decidedly, and at that moment the in- 
dividual referred to entered the room in the person of a 
middle-aged, pleasant-featured woman whose likeness to 
the girl at once declared the relationship between them. 

“ Slava Bogu ! ” said the new-comer, dropping a courtesy 


48 


THE EUSSIAj^ KEFUGEE. 


to the young lady and crossing herself reverently. Elsie 
was much diverted at the way in which the child took her 
mother’s hand, and in a dramatic way pointed at her, at 
the same time glancing at the lady, saying emphatically, 
“ Nadia,” and then touching her own breast significantly 
said, “ Sophia,” ending by saying something to the elder, 
and laughing merrily. It was a complete introduction, and 
the merriment of the youngster was so infectious that Elsie 
laughed too, and the mother smiled in a grave, sad way, 
giving at the same time a half-loving, half-reproving glance 
at the mirthful maiden. In spite of the painful foot the 
toilet was skilfully and rapidly made by the deft, tender 
hands of the mother and daughter, who insisted that the 
patient must not help herself in the least. But to a nature 
like Elsie’s this was impossible, and her own quick fingers 
expedited matters not a little, so that in about twenty min- 
utes she was sitting in a sort of easy-chair with her feet on 
a support, clad in clean, white garments fetched from un- 
seen places, and feeling fresh and decidedly comfortable. 

“But where am I ? and who is my benefactor? Old fel- 
low, I wish you could speak,” as the dog came up to her in 
friendly fashion and laid one paw on the stool which sup- 
ported her feet. “ Oh, if I only knew this language. Why 
didn 1 1 learn Russian instead of French when I went to 
school. But then Mademoiselle Therry didn’t know any- 
thing but French, how should she. How she would have 
looked if I had asked her to teach me Russian. How ri- 


diculous, as if I ever could have supposed that I should 
have any use for Russian. I never dreamed there were 
any Russians in our part of the world.” 

^ Her mind ran on in this whimsical way, and presently 
sne found herself smiling at her own fancies. 

However, that grand old gentleman understands Eng- 
lish and will tell me all about it, but I must send a mes- 
sage to father.” 


THE BUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


49 


A slight noise aroused her, and the old man stood before 
her again. 

“Do not fret, my child, I heard your last words as I en- 
tered the room. Your father knows you are safe. He was 
notified early this morning.” 

“ This morning ! why, how long have I been asleep ? and 
was it yesterday that I fell down the ravine ? ” 

Drawing one of the curious chairs to hers, he sat beside 
her. 

“We did not discover you until about seven o’clock last 
evening, and you have to thank Alex here that we found 
you then. The instinct of these beings is wonderful,” and 
here he laid his hand upon the dog’s head which was rest- 
ing on his knee. He detected you and gave us no rest 
until we began the search. Adolph, whom you have not 
yet seen, has the sight of a greyhound, and the strength 
and courage of a panther, and soon decided that some one 
was lying helpless and needed prompt assistance. AVitli- 
out going into wearisome details, let me say that we 
reached you and brought you here in an insensible condi- 
tion, from which you only recovered a couple of hours 
since.” 

Elsie grasped the hands of the speaker fervently. “ Oh, 
how can I thank you, you have saved my life,” and here 
her tears flowed freely. 

“ I fear I have been a little imprudent, my daughter ; you 
are weak yet from your fearful fall. You must rest quietly 
now and not talk any more. Everything will be well. 
You trust me, my child, do you not ? ” 

“With my life,” she returned, raising his hand to her 
lips, “ but do let me send word to my father. My dear 
father, he will be so dreadfully anxious. Can he not come 
and see me if I am too lame to be moved ? ” And here she 
regarded him wistfully. 

“ Suppose you write him a little note, telling him you 
4 


50 


THE EUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


are safe and doing well, but that the doctor says you can- 
not be moved yet.” ^ 

“ O thank you so much, and where shall I say I am? * 
adding naively, “ and your name, so that he can help me 
thank my benefactor.” 

‘‘ Say you are in the home of a physician who will send 
you to your father so soon as it is safe for you to travel. 

“ Are you really a doctor ? and do you practice in our 
neighborhood? Strange that I never heard of you. At 
leaS,” she added, coloring, “ I mean, I thought I knew of 
all the physicians round here.” 

“I do not practise now, only for a friend occasionally. 
For instance, when a young lady is brought to me insensi- 
ble, suffering from concussion of the brain and a sprained 
ankle. Then I turn doctor once more. But your father 
can trust me, my child, for I understand the healing art 
thoroughly, and kind nature offers me remedies on every 
hand.” 

So delicately evasive had been his replies that she had 
too much tact to press for information, which she saw was 
purposely mthheld, so she quietly penned the note which, 
as we have seen, reached Mr. Hastings at his home. On 
finishing it, instead of asking for an envelope, as first in- 
clined, she frankly passed it to her companion, who seemed 
much pleased at this mark of confidence, and handed it 
back saying : 

“ You will never regret confiding in me, my daughter. 
Bead it to me if you like. There are matters which I can- 
not well explain now, but which you shall know in good 
time.” So saying he held out his hand, which she warmly 
grasped, and then read the few lines she had traced. 

^ “Very good, your father will have this within a few 
hours.” 

He was about leaving the apartment, when, observing her 
wistful look, he said, “ Yes, my child, I promise you that 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 51 

you shall know of your father’s welfare soon,” and left the 
room. 

She was astonished. 

“ Why, he seems to read my thoughts. He is a wonder- 
ful man. This is the third time he has told me what I 
wished before I could frame it in words. But he is grand 
and noble, and I begin to love him very much. Who can 
he be I wonder ? ” 

The subject of her thoughts was truly a remarkable-look- 
ing man in many respects. A very aged man apparently, 
for he had many of the signs of far-advanced life, and yet 
his step was elastic though slow. Of medium height and 
fairly nourished form, he gave some indications of having- 
enjoyed uncommon physical j)ower and endurance in his 
prime. But his superb head, before alluded to, with the 
abundance of snowy hair above and below, and the brilliant 
piercing black eyes gave him an appearance of dignity and 
authority rarely met with. 

Elsie fancied he looked like an ancient king, and his 
bearing and manner emphasized the thought. The full 
beard in man always gives the impression of power, and 
nothing so adds to that indefinable something we call pres- 
ence, like the hirsute appendage. Oh ! the degeneracy of 
these beardless times. Shade of Vandyke ! how would you 
mourn over the race, so many of whom, denuded by art, 
below, and by ruthless nature above, scud along on life’s 
ocean literally under bare poles ! 

Elsie did not see her host again that night, for soon after 
his departure with the note, Nadia and her httle daughter 
entered with some slight refreshment, after partaking of 
which she was prepared for repose and left alone, with a 
soothing draught by her side, which she was to take in case 
she could not sleep. The little maiden managed to tell her 
in broken English, that some one would be within call in 
case she wanted anything during the night. 


52 


THE KUSSIAH PwEFUGEE. 


Her head ached pretty badlj', for the severe concussion 
of the brain which she had suffered had left that organ in 
a very excitable condition, and the absolute quiet she now 
enjoyed in that great, comfortable room, with the glowing 
fire sending its fitful dancing light, now in one corner, and 
then in another, was just what she felt she required. The 
intense stillness was wonderful, not a sound but the crack- 
ling of the fire reached her, and soon slumber wrapped her 
senses in oblivion. What a democrat, what a leveller sleep 
is ! Prince and peasant alike, in slumber. Where is the 
distinction ? For a third of the time wealth, rank, power, 
have no advantage over povert}^ obscurity, weakness. In 
the great commonwealth of slumber all enjoy equal rights. 
In the republic of dreams the noble and ignoble may change 
places, and the beggar mount the throne of power. 

“Was it a dream ? How oft in sleep, we ask, Can this be true ? 

Whilst warm imagination paints her marvels to our view, 

Earth’s glory seems a tarnished crown, to that which we behold, 

When dreams enchant our sight with things whose meanest garb 
is gold ! ” 

And then, the awakening from a really sound, refreshing 
slumber— is any satisfaction on earth equal to it ? You are 
ready to engage the world single-handed. Giants, which, a 
few hours previously, presented a portentious front and made 
us feel proportionately humble, now appear dwarfs, or at the 
most, inflated monsters which a properly, applied pin will 
cause to collapse and shrink. Problems are solved, doubts 
disappear, and earth seems rehabilitated under the magic 
touch of the enchanted wand of the nocturnal king. It 
was undoubtedly morning, for the glorious rays of the day 
god were streaming into the room, tinting with golden 
beauty whatever they touched. But the light seemed to 
come from one direction, and yet she could see no window. 

“ What a funny house it is,” she said to herself. Who 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


53 


ever saw such a ceiling, and no windows visible ? But yet the 
light comes in, and sunlight too. What a delightful sleep 
I have had ; if this old ankle only would get well fast, I 
should soon be able to go home.” 

And then she thought of the people she was with, and the 
evasive answers of the old man to her inquiries. 

“Russians, for I suppose he is a Russian too. I wonder if 
pa knows anything of them. Well, they are very interest- 
ing, and that bright-eyed little one must know more English 
than she lets on. I will try and find out something from 
her. If no better, I suppose I must learn Russian. My, 
what would father say if I went home talking Russian like 
a Cossack ? ” 

This thought so struck her fancy that she laughed mer- 
rily. The truth was, Elsie was naturally fond of adventure, 
and now that sleep had restored in great degree her lost 
nervous tone, she rather enjoyed the idea of trying to solve 
the mystery by which she was surrounded. She was just 
planning how she should put her questions, so as to elicit 
information without giving rise to suspicion — for she felt 
certain that there was something about these people which 
they did not wish her to know — when the words “ Slava 
Bogu ” saluted her ears, and Nadia, followed by the demure 
little maiden, glided into the room. ^ 


CHAPTER YI. 

THE “SCARECROW,” AND HIS DARK LANTERN. 


Inquiry at Hiram’s cottage only produced the informa, 
tion that nothing had been seen or heard of him for two 
days. His wife declared this was nothing unusual, as he 
was frequently away on his trapping expeditions for a week 
at a time. She was a buxom, good-humored German, very 
short and stout, and an odder-looking couple could not be 
found on the Continent. “Plus and Minus,” Mr. Hastings 
called them, but they seemed well adapted to each other, and 
lived in perfect harmony — at least so the nearest neighbors 
said, who lived about a mile off. 

“Hat is one wonderful man,” said Mrs. Hiram ; “me tell 
him he never be lost. Hot man so high he not hide him- 
self. His head stick up somewhere.” And here the good 
lady laughed all over, until the jubilant waves of her ample 
person trembled and quivered like a mountain of blanc- 
mange. 

The master of Hermitage decided to take no special step, 
beyond making rigid inquiry everywhere for miles round, 
until he saw Hiram again. 


“He is better than any policeman or detective, and can 
follow a scent with the fidelity of a sleuth-hound.” 

Nearly every house skirting the ravine, or on its ap- 
proaches, was visited, but nothing heard of the missing girl. 

This anxiety is really wearing on my nerves,” exclaimed 
Mis. St. Johns, on the evening of the fifth day since the acci- 
dent. “ Really, my dear IVIi*. Hastings, something ought to 
be done. Ho, I beg of you, be guided by my husband. He 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


55 


is a legal man, you are aware, and knows all about sucli mat- 
ters. Angie is quite losing her color, grieving in secret for 
her lovely f.iend.” 

“We all miss her so much. I had a thousand questions I 
wanted to ask her, and so many places she promised to 
show me. I know those horrid peoj^le are keeping her 
against her will.” And here the tears came into Angie’s 
lovely eyes, adding, as she well knew, to her charms. Mr. 
Hastings looked distressed. 

“ I would not have had this take place for anything I could 
name, and just at your visit too, dear friends, but my hands 
are practically tied. I am assured that my child is alive 
and probably well, apart from the injury to her foot. That 
she is how also domiciled within a few miles of this house, 
I am satisfied too ; but that is the extent of my knowledge, 
and all inquiry has proved futile. My only hope of near so- 
lution of this problem lies in Hiram, whose appearance I am 
anxiously expecting.” 

“But, Buskin, surely you can suggest something? Oh, 
how we all suffer. My heart bleeds for you, my dear friend,” 
turning to her host. “ I know well what a parent’s anx- 
ieties are,” and here the handkerchief did duty. 

“Indeed, Selia,” returned her husband, “Mr. Hastings and 
1 have gone over the ground so thoroughly, and sifted every 
proposed theory or expedient so completely, that I confess 
I am fast coming to his belief, that the trapper is our best 
hope.” 

“ But, pa,” interrupted his son, “ surely a New York de- 
tective, one of the Bow Street stripe, for instance, would 
be of more service than a common — ah — peasant.” 

“ Detectives are all very good in their way, but, as Mr. 
Hastings says, if we bring a detective here, he will, not 
knowing the ground, have to employ some such person as 
this Hiram to really do the work. However, we still have 
the alternative of a detective as a final resort.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


6(j 

“ But, father, it is truly awful to think of a beautiful and 
refined young lady having to sleep a single night in one of 
those huts, and on a straw bed, perhaps. Why, it makes 
my blood run cold to think of the outrage.” And here 
Boland looked so ludicrously pugnacious, that his sister 
Alfarena laughed, and remarked : 

“ Sleeping in one of those cottages is not so very bad, 
surely. I think I should like it. It would be quite an ad- 
venture, and I know Elsie won’t mind that part of it so 
much.” 

Roland tossed . his head loftily, saying, “ Young ladies 
don’t know anything about such things. They think it 
very romantic. I’ve seen something of that life, and I know 
the difference.” 

“ Yes, one night in a fisherman’s cottage. What an im- 
mense experience,” said the young lady, provokingly. “ Mr. 
Hastings, you must know that Roland and some of his col- 
lege friends went out on a boating trip last summer, and 
were driven by ‘ stress of weather ’ — that is the phrase, isn’t 
it, Roland ? ” smiling at the youth mischievously — to take 
refuge for the night in a deserted fisherman’s hut. I ex- 
pect they suffered enough, poor fellows, for next day Roland 
came home blistered with the sun and really half sick. But 
ever since his lordship uses this adventure to overawe us 
girls with his large experience.” 

“Well,” said the host, smiling genially, “the cottage life 
wall have no terrors for Elsie, for she has spent many a night 
in one.” Adding, with a wistful look : “However, I wish for 
all reasons she was home, and she wall be so distressed to 
miss even a part of your visit.” 

About 8 P.M., that evening, Mr. Hastings was summoned 
from the parlor where he was sitting with his guests, to see 
a stranger who had been shown into the library. The vis- 
itor proved to be the long-expected Hiram, who had re- 
quested the servant not to mention who he was to her mas- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


67 


ter. The gentleman was much gratified at seeing the tall 
form of the trapper as he rose to greet him. 

“Why Hiram, my man, I was afraid some mountain cat 
bigger than common, had devoured you.” 

“ Take a pretty big cat to fix Hiram, friend Alf,” said 
the mountaineer, grimly. “ But hev you heard anything of 
Miss Elsie ? ” 

“ Good Heavens ! why, I thought you had come to tell 
me something about her yourself. Here we have been 
waiting for you all this time, and now you ask me such a 
question as that ! ” 

The woodsman worked his long fingers together, crack- 
ing the joints nervously, and with a report like a small pis- 
tol ; and then, looking askance at his companion, blurted 
out: 

“I guess she’s well, friend Alf, I guess she’s well.” 

“ I hope she is, indeed,” returned the father, smiling in 
spite of his annoyance ; “but where is she ? Come, Hiram, 
my good fellow, you know how naturally anxious I am. 
Come, sit down and tell me all about it.” 

Hiram sat down mechanically, and looked straight at a 
hunting picture on the wall. 

“ Thet’s a peart pictur, but the dug ain’t right. Dugs 
doan’t run straight like that un.” 

At any other time Mr. Hastings would have enjoyed 
bringing out his guest’s criticisms, which were quaint and 
shrewdly correct ; but now his anxiety to know about his 
child almost rose to fever heat. 

“ Let the picture alone for the present, Hiram, and go on 
with your story. So you found Elsie ? ” 

Hiram looked still at the picture, but did not seem to 
have heard the remark. 

“ ’Pears to me, friend Alf, them keows ain’t quite nat- 
teril, but it’s a prime pictur, friend Alf.” 

Mr. Hastings curbed his eagerness, feeling satisfied that 


58 


THE RUSSIxVN REFUGEE. 


his strange companion would not be driven or coaxed to 
say anything he did not wish, and that what he came to 
say would be said in his own time and way. So, humoring 
the trapper, he began talking , about the picture, and en- 
couraged the rustic critic to give his opinions on art. 

Hiram was such a true student of nature, in all her 
moods, that his ideas, crude as they were, were pithy and 
graphic ; but his hearer well knew this was only side-play, 
and was not surprised, though greatly relieved, when his 
strange visitor, looking him full in the face, said ; 

“Friend Alf, did ee ever carry a dark lantern on the 
meountains at night, and kipped the dark side out ? ” 

“I have certainly, Hiram, but ^idlat of it?” 

“Wall,” said Hiram, rising slowly from the chair, “I be 
carrying the lantern naow, an’ I hev ter keep the dark side 
to thee, friend Alf. Elsie’s well, I’ve seed her and talked 
wi’ her, bless her, an’ she sent yer this. Hum my butes, 
I’d most forgotten.” 

So saying, Hiram handed to his outwardly calm, but 
inwardly eager and excited, listener, a piece of folded paper 
which had a variegated appearance from contact with its 
soiled hiding-place. 

“Good-by, friend All Mebbe I’ll see ee again purty 
soon.” 

“ Stop, stop, Hiram, you must have some supper before 
you go ; besides, you have told me nothing about Elsie yet. 
Come, sit down and tell me all about it.” 

Hiram looked wistfully, but cunningly, at the gentle- 
man, as if in some doubt ; then said, steadily, but with a 
certain huskiness in his voice which his hearer quickly de- 
tected : 

“ Mebbe, friend Alf, tother side of the lantern ’ll be to 
thee next time. Mebbe not.” 

At this moment there was a tap at the door and a voice 
said, as it opened a little ; 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


59 


May I speak with you a moment, Mr. Hastings ? ” 

“Certainly, Mrs. St. Johns,” said the host, as he stepped 
into the hall. “ I’ll be back in a minute, Hiram, make your- 
self comfortable.” 

“ Oh, my dear friend, I heard from the girl that horrid 
man was with you, and I could not rest. Fardonnez-moi, 
but my mother-heart yearned to hear news of the dear child. 
Have you heard anything ? ” 

“Yes, here is a note telling me she is much better, and 
that she hopes to be able to walk in a few days.” 

“But surely she says where she is, and urges you to 
come and see her, and I wdll go with you, and the girls, and 
Roland ; how delightful it will be.” 

“My dear madam, Hiram will not tell where she is, 
though confessing to have seen her, and her note says only 
what I have told you.” 

“ Refuses to tell what he knows ! The ingrate ! the mon- 
ster ! Let me see him ! I will get the truth out of him. 
Women know how to deal with men. Please let me go 
in?” 

And without waiting for yes or no, the lady led the way 
into the room, followed by the rather annoyed Mr. Hast- 
ings, who, conscious of the woodman’s peculiar and ob- 
stinate character, expected rather evil than good from the 
interview. 

“ Hiram, that is your name, is it not ? ” said the lady, 
putting on her most gracious but dignified manner. The 
trapper, who had risen on her entrance, stood in all his sub- 
lime lankiness, twirling his hat, like a furry benediction 
about to fall on a penitent, far above her head. 

“Hiram, mem, some folks calls me,” replied the trapper, 
looking down on the imperious little woman beneath him. 

“ Well, Hiram, sit down. I want to talk with you.” 

Hiram dropped into his chair with military promptness, 
the lady also seating herself, but the relative disproportion 


60 


THE EUSSIA^f REFUGEE. 


in height remained about the same as before, only now the 
picture suggested one of the sitting kings of Africa re- 
ceiving a visitor of some importance, who, by special per- 
mission, was allowed a seat. The trapper’s dress and 
general make up — toute ensemble, as the good lady after- 
ward phrased it — was remarkable, and such as might have 
suited barbaric notions of splendor. For on this occasion 
he wore a fox-skin coat trimmed with faded crimson, and 
a pair of very ancient hunting boots. His cap was of 
raccoon, peaked in shape, with a large, red, woollen ball on 
the peak. His coal-black locks, streaming over the marvel- 
lous length of head and neck, coupled with the grotesque 
smile, meant to be at the same time respectful and reassur- 
ing to his interviewer, made him certainly imposing. 

“ I am so glad you have seen Miss Hastings, and that 
she is well, and so anxious to see her father ; and so we 
are going to make up a party and go to-morrow and spend 
the day with her, and we want you to go with us, Hiram, 
as you know the road best.” 

The trapper smiled with great superficial length, breadth, 
and benignity upon the voluble speaker, but remained at- 
tentively silent. 

“ I should judge from Miss Elsie’s letter to her father, 
that the gentleman she is staying with, Mr. — Mr. — what is 
his name, Hiram, I’ve forgotten it? So stupid of me, too.” 

“So hev I, mem,” returned the woodsman, with auda- 
cious mendacity ; “ very stoopid of me too, but mebbe it’s 
in the letter.” 

Mrs. St. Johns raised her eyebrows. 

“ Such singular impertinence,” she said to herself. “ I 
must pursue a different plan with this creature.” So, with 
her most impressive tones and looks, such as she generally 
found effectual in overawing her servants : 

Hiram, I want no nonsense. I insist — insist, remem- 
ber,” and here she held up the forefinger of the left hand 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


61 


significantly toward him — “ that you tell me at once the 
name of the gentleman and the place where Miss Elsie is 
staying.” 

The mountaineer’s countenance assumed a comically 
alarmed appearance. 

“ Yer said yer’d forgotten the name, mem — mebbe yer’ll 
’member it after awhile, an’ then yer kin hev the picnic.” 

“ This is intolerable,” said the indignant lady. “ Really, 
Mr. Hastings, we shall be compelled to use harsher meas- 
ures with this — this person.” 

“ Do you know, my good man, that you can be arrested 
and imprisoned for refusing to tell where Miss Hastings is 
detained. You can be put in the State’s prison for ab- 
duction’' and she emphasized the word, looking keenly at 
the curious visage, looming above with its merry, twinkling 
eyes, and half-respectful, half-obstinate expression. 

“ Mebbe I kin, mem ; haow long do yer recken it’d be, 
mem ? ” and here he looked down on her proud, vexed face 
with an appearance of eager curiosity, and profound faith 
in what she was about to answer. 

“ For your lifetime — as long as you shall live,” she said, 
solemnly, delighted to think that perhaps he was yielding. 

“ Thet’s a long time, mem — a big while. Wall, I be ris- 
ing fifty, an’ I recken, mebbe, if some darned critter or 
suthin’ don’t get hold of me, mebbe I’ll live to be ninety or 
mebbe a hunderd. Grand’ther lived to a hunderd, and 
t’other grand’ther rising, suthing like ninety. Recken, 
Hiram, yer hit ninety,” as if making the calculation with 
himself. “So, mem, mebbe I’ll hev to be ’prisoned for 
forty year. Yer’ll let Gretchen live with me, won’t yer? ” 

His face wore such an expression of simple candor, that 
although she could not think the reply was sarcastic, yet 
she felt uncomfortable in the presence of this rustic, and 
impelled to change her position of attack and coercion to 
one more conciliatory. 


62 


THE KHSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


“ I know how fond you are of Elsie,” she said, dropping 
the Jfiss with an inward protest, but yet wishing to gain 
his confidence, and in some way, fair or foul, touch the 
heart of this savage, “ and ]\Ir. Hastings has the greatest 
faith in your honesty and fidelity, and I am sure you would 
not wish to keep father and daughter apart. You know 
they have never been separated, and. it is very cruel. I didn’t 
think you could do it ; ” and here the elegant cambric went 
gracefully to one eye, its fellow meanwhile watching the 
effect of the dramatic attempt. 

Poor Hiram looked bewildered. He seemed \isibly 
touched when she spoke of the faith of the father and 
daughter in him, but the climax of the appeal was too much. 
He sprang from his chair as if electrified and looked into 
the distance as if he saw a “critter” ready to pounce upon 
him. 

“Darn my butes,” and then he stopped suddenly with a 
guilty look, and stammered, “ I mean durn. Wall, mem, 
you know how I love Miss Elsie, and friend Alf, and Hugo 
and Ponto, and everything belonging to her. And dang 
me if I wouldn’t fit two weights of her in cats to keep her 
right ; but mem, and here the honest fellow’s voice became 
tremulous, “ Hiram niver telled a lie, an’ I hev giv the 
word to the old man.” Here he turned saying, “ Me an’ 
Gretchen’ll be ready for the prison, mem. Ef you wants 
Hiram, friend Alf, thee knows where he hangs up.” And 
the trapper’s tall form flashed out of the room. 

Mr. Hastings laughed heai-tily : “A rustic philosopher. 
I really thought at one moment there, that you had con- 
quered, but I ought to have known better.” 

“ I really think the brute was laughing at me about the 
prison, returned the lady, looking considerably chagrined 
at her signal failure. “ Well, we got something from him 

at any rate. It’s an old man who has Elsie in charge. I was 

really afraid that there might be a young one in the case.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


63 


The gentleman looked annoyed. 

“ You do not think, Mrs. St. Johns, that Elsie has been 
deceiving me in the past, and that this present episode is 
merely a ruse. If so, you do not know my child.” 

“Oh no, my dear sir ; but you know young women at her 
age have fancies, and do not tell everything to their parents. 
Even my dear girls do not tell me quite all. At least,” she 
added, as if having admitted too much, “I sometimes fancy 
so.” 

Ml’. St. Johns entered here, and was informed of the in- 
terview with the trapper. 

“He would be an ugly witness on the stand. You can 
do very little with such men. However, this letter is proof 
positive that he knows all about it, and that Miss Elsie is 
safe.” 

“ I can see she writes under restrictions, and not in the 
full, free, frank way that she always has written to me when 
temporarily away from home,” said Mi'. Hastings. “ There 
is some mystery here, and although I have faith in Hiram, 
and feel satisfied that in some way or other his hands have 
been tied too, yet I don’t like the thought of any one pre- 
suming to hold such control over my child even if she may 
be under obligations to them.” The gentleman spoke with 
more warmth than was his wont, probably under the irri- 
tation of Mrs. St. Johns’ insinuations that Elsie herself 
might be partly in fault. An only child, and that child a 
daughter, the representative of an idolized wife, his com- 
panion, and, as he often told himself, the best part of his 
life — how could he for a moment suppose that she could in 
any way deceive him. Mrs. St. Johns’ remarks had jarred 
his already — on account of the recent occurrence — acutely 
sensitive nervous system, and he felt and showed an im- 
patience which was foreign to his usually placid and 
self-contained nature. Acting under the impulse of his 
present mood, Mr. Hastings listened to his friend so far as 


64 


I’HE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


to offer a liberal reward to the officers from the neighbor- 
ing town, who were already trying to ferret out some clue to 
the robber of the desk, if they should succeed in bringing 
him any information relative to Elsie’s place of detention. 

“ Mark you, I do not authorize you to take any steps in 
case of your finding my daughter. There may be good 
reason for this reticence, and I would not willingly wrong 
those who have certainly befriended her, and, for aught I 
know, saved her life. I only ask you to discover her where- 
abouts and inform me.” ^ 

The officers, prompted by Mrs. St. Johns, urged that au- 
thority should be given them to bring the young lady home 
in case she were willing ; but Mr. Hastings was obstinate on 
the point, having a latent belief that his daughter was actu- 
ated by proper motives in concealing her residence, and that 
there might be no coercion about it. The two constables 
felt certain that, with their minute knowledge of the country, 
they would soon be able to claim the reward, and departed 
in high spirits. 


CHAPTEB Vn. 


“OH! BRAVE NEW WORLD, THAT HAS SUCH PEOPLE 
IN’T.” 

“ Slava Bogu,” said Elsie to herself, as Nadia and her 
daughter entered. “ I suppose that means good-day or good- 
morning, or something of the kind, so she responded smil- 
ingly, ‘‘ Slava Bogu.” The two Russians looked surprised 
and pleased together, and exchanged smihng glances with 
each other. She by no means felt satisfied that she had 
put the right meaning into the words ; but, at any rate, it 
had been an attempt at a conversation in their own tongue, 
and that was something. In a very brief time her morning 
toilet was accomplished, and she in the big easy-chair by the 
glowing fire. In a few moments a nicely served and cooked 
breakfast came in, two of the dishes being entirely new to 
her, but of pleasant taste, especially one of them, a sort of 
delicate pastry, which looked very foreign to her, and proved 
on tasting it to be savory, instead of sweet, as she had sus- 
pected. Sophia waited on her assiduously, and seemed de- 
hghted to keep her well atten'ded to. 

Seizing the child’s hand as she stood near her she said, 
“ Now, Sophia, tell me something about yourself. How old 
are you ? ” The httle maiden shook her head at first, and 
then her countenance brightened, and she answered, in her 
faltering Enghsh, “ Of twelve years.” Encouraged by this 
success she ventured next, “ And were you born here ? ” 
But now she failed, for the child did not or would not un- 
derstand her. So she looked around the room and then 


66 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


said inquiringly, “ What is the name— name of this place ? ” 
“Home,” was the response, in the most smiling, unaffected 
way possible. It was no evasion, Elsie felt, it was the child’s 
home, and perhaps she had no other word for it. Alex, the 
hound, here strolled leisurely in to pay his morning respects 
to the guest, and gave at once a topic for conversation, in 
which Russian and English were comically mixed. How- 
ever, each learned some words of the other s language and 
felt well satisfied. Wlien, a short time after, Alex’s master 
entered the room he found his patient looking very bright 
and happy. 

“And how is the dear child this morning?” he said, 
kindly, laying his hand on her head. “ You have slept well, 
I see, and feel well, I trust ? ” Elsie assured him she never 
felt better in her life, and inquired eagerly when she would 
be fit to travel. 

“Are you so weary of us already? I hope Nadia and 
Sophia have done their duty by you? ” 

“ Weary ! oh, no ; but I am naturally anxious about home. 
Remember, or perhaps you do not know, I am an only 
child, and have never been long away from home before.” 

“ But you have not been long away. This is only the 
third day, and your father knows you are safe.” 

“ Ah, if he really knew where I am he would be satisfied ; 
but he does not know,” she said, looking at him timidly. 

“ But, my daughter, your father will not be very sad, not 
so sad as you think, for he trusts his child, and your letter 
would comfort him even if it did not tell him all. Mr. 
Hastings is a good man, and good men do not indulge idle 
fears.” 

“Do not think I am ungrateful for an instant, and Nadia 
and Sophia have been so kind, and I will try to be quite 
contented as long as you think it necessary for me to stay 
in your house. But I feel as if I was casting the burden 
of my helpless condition upon strangers, which I have no 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


67 


right to do. How can I ever repay you for your kind care 
of me ? ” 

He looked at her with those piercing eyes, as if to read 
her sincerity, as written on the inner tablets of the soul, and 
then, apparently satisfied, replied : 

“ Kindness when it comes from the heart can only be 
repaid in one coin — kindness. If you think I have been 
helpful to you, be helpful to some one else. Be kind to 
some brother or sister of the great human family of which 
we form a part. All the great prophets of the race have 
taught this.” 

In the mixed glow of the sunlight and firelight, he looked 
indeed like one of the prophets he spoke of, and his words 
came to her like the words of inspiration. Both remained 
silent a moment and then he resumed cheerfully, “ Yet I 
am forgetting how naturally curious you must be to know 
something about us. It has been a great trial to be so un- 
expectedly tlu’own among strangers, and such peculiar 
strangers, too. It has, I regret to say, been necessary to 
be reticent to you, but some things I can tell you, and I 
will trust to your honor that you will hold my confidence 
sacred until I tell you to speak. I ask no promise,” seeing 
she was about to reply, “I simply trust you.” She 
pressed his hand. It was a tacit compact, but binding on 
a nature like Elsie’s like ten thousand oaths. “ You may 
have certain suspicions while here, but you will not put 
those suspicions in words. First, then, what sort of a house 
have you got into ? I know you must have wondered at the 
curious ceihng or roof, and the absence of windows, and 
the singular way in which the sunlight comes in to greet 
us this morning.” She smiled assent and acknowledged 
that it had puzzled her very much, and internally felt just 
a little compunctious that she had tried indirectly to obtain 
information from the little maiden, which he had intended 
to give her when he thought best, He smiled so pleasantly 


68 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


and intelligently at her as this came to her mind, that she felt 
certain that he read her thought, and colored under his gaze. 

“You need not feel ashamed, my dear,” he said quietly, 
“it was very natural, the instinct of self-preservation, to 
try and know your surroundings. You shall see where you 
are.” Here, clapping his hands together, Nadia glided into 
the room, and at a word from the Patriarch, for this was 
the name Elsie mentally gave him, drew out a slight 
basket chair on easy running wheels, from behind a curtain. 
The guest was quickly and easily transferred to this, and 
the old man leading the way, was pushed by Nadia in the 
direction from which the sunlight came. In a moment she 
found herself in another room, or rather it was a continua- 
tion of the same room only much wider and higher, open- 
ing like a huge funnel, from the narrow end which termin- 
ated the apartment she had quitted, to the larger end which 
seemed lost in sky and foliage. 

“ What an immense window,” she involuntarily exclaimed. 
The leader smiled. 

“ Yes, my daughter, a window framed and glazed by the 

Divine Architect, who likewise built the house. See ” 

and the chair suddenly stopped in the centre of the “ win- 
dow ” which she now perceived had neither frame nor glass, 
and a vast ravine spread out before the startled vision of the 
maiden. Her amazed eyes looked down hundreds of feet 
below, for she saw she was on the very edge of a precipice. 
Shrinking back in the chair, she looked up at the smiling 
face of her companion with wonder and awe depicted in 
every feature of her expressive countenance. 

“ Be not alarmed, my daughter, the floor on which you 
rest is the eternal rock on which the world is framed. 
Look abroad, grandeur and beauty are there. With your 
young eyes you ought to be able to see much that es- 
capes my dimmer vision.” Her glance passed through the 
mighty crevasse with its innumerable trees and stupen- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


69 


clous piles of rock and cliff, on, on, until it rested on the 
tall mountains, miles and miles away, and one peak proudly 
appeared above them all, bathed in the morning sunshine. 
As she gazed a sudden glance of recognition came over her 
face, she bent forward coloring with eagerness. 

“ Surely not, but yet it is, it is. Big Ben. I cannot be 
mistaken ? ” she turned ' questioningly to the patriarch. 
His smile reassured her. “ Oh, how glorious ! that point 
and that huge tree — they come back as in a dream, so like 
and yet so unlike ; everything seems turned round, and yet 
this must be the Big Eavine.” 

“ It is the ravine, but I hardly thought you would recog- 
nize it so quickly, seeing it from a new standpoint.” 
After a moment’s silence he said, “ You must not tire your- 
self, suppose 'we go in ? ” 

She begged for another look, and again feasted her eyes 
on the splendid panorama. 

“ Oh, thank you, what a treat, now I feel at home, but, 
but,” and here a puzzled look was turned on him, as she 
glanced above and below curiously. “ Where are we liv- 
ing ? What sort of a funny house is this ? It seems built 
in the wall or on the very edge of the ravine ? ” 

He laughed quietly at her seeming pei^plexity. 

“Yes, it is built in the wall of the ravine, a building 
planned by a wonderful Architect, and erected by a Builder 
whose foundations are sure. My child,” taking her hands 
paternally in his and looking at her fixedly, but with that 
tender, winning smile which had already won her perfect 
confidence, “You are living in a cave!” Although in a 
sense half prepared for this announcement, yet Elsie was 
profoundly astonished. 

“ In a cave ! ” she exclaimed, “ and so near the ravine 
and I never heard of it. And is it large ? Oh, how delight- 
ful it will be to explore it,” she went on, as she was being 
wheeled back to the inner room. 


70 


TJIE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Yes, my dear, it is very large and very curious, and as 
soon as possible you shall see as much as is safe to explore. 
Is this your first visit to an underground house ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, I have often heard of them, but never saw 
one before. And have you lived here long ? ” 

“Longer than you could suppose. This has been my 
home over fifty years.” 

“Fifty years,” she echoed, involuntarily. “Why, that 
has been nearly all your life ? ” 

“No, little one,” he said, with a tinge of sadness, almost 
of tiredness, in his voice ; “I am very old, much older than 
you think.” 

His eyes closed, and he seemed to be communing with 
himself, and with the closure of those magnetic eyes she 
noticed that his face did look very aged, although fresh 
and healthy. Then brightening up and resuming : 

“ Pardon me, my young friend, but your questions threw 
me back into other days. I was thinking of the past. Old 
men must be allowed that privilege occasionally. It be- 
longs to bright youth to live entirely in the present. But 
old age need not be pensive or gloomy even if it does claim 
the prerogative of wandering into half-forgotten fields now 
and then.” 

“ Oh, I never could imagine you to be either sad or 
gloomy for a moment. Lideed, fits of contemplation and 
reverie come over me frequently. So they don’t belong to 
any age exclusively.” 

“Was it in one of those fits of abstraction that you fell 
over the cliff? ” he asked, with a mischievous glance. 

“No, indeed,” and then she related all the incidents 
connected with her accident, up to the time of losing con- 
sciousness. He listened attentively and sympathetically 
until she concluded, only putting an occasional question 
to help the narrative. 

“ My dear child,” he said, impressively ; “ how thankful I 


THE PvUSSIAN PvEFUGEE. 


71 


feel tliat our attention was drawn to yon so early, for there 
have been some ferocious looking wild cats seen in the 
ravine from time to time, and your peril would have been 
great indeed if one of them had scented you while lying 
insensible.” 

She paled a little at the words, and slightly shuddered, 
then turned to him and said : 

“ Please tell me now how you came to save me, and who 
helped you ? Believe me, I am not ungrateful, whatever I 
may seem,” and here the emotion which she strove bravely 
to control showed itself by the tears which wetted her 
cheeks. 

“ You have not yet recovered your normal strength, my 
child, but after you have dined, if you still feel well and so 
desire, I will relate what you ask.” 

So saying he pressed her hand gently and left the 
room. Sophia came in shortly after, evidently sent to keep 
her company, indeed the little Russian intimated as much, 
and they spent a pleasant hour trying to impart their re- 
spective languages to each other. Elsie fomid the pro- 
nunciation of the Slavonian tongue easier than she had 
hoped, but yet she almost despaired of ever conquering 
some of the sounds which the young girl rattled off so glibly. 
No such trouble was experienced on the other side, for the 
child could give almost any English sound at the first at- 
tempt, and showed marked linguistic ability. It was de- 
lightful work, and Nadia summoned her daughter to carry 
in the patient’s lunch before they were aware that the hour 
of noon had arrived. 

“So we are living in a cavern, Sophia?” said Elsie, 
pointing to the roof. “ Were you born here ? ” 

The girl laughed gleefully, but the answer in Russian 
was not intelligible. 

“ What an adventure to be sure, living in a cave like the 
early men I used to read of in the library. Let me see, 


72 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


they were called the Cave dwellers, yes that was it. I won- 
der if the Patriarch is one of them, he looks nearly old 
enough. But he is a dear, good man, and I am growing 
quite fond of him. Those curious looking formations hang- 
ing from the roof must be the stalagmites I have read of, 
or stalagtites, which is it I wonder ? I must ask my Patri- 
arch doctor. Now, foot, you must get well, so that I can 
explore these subterranean rooms. AVhat fun it will be. 
How I wish father could be with me, but no, I dare not 
ask.” And she seemed to remember the peculiar look she 
received when she asked that her father be permitted to 
come and see her before. All this was uttered aloud in a 
sort of half soliloquy during her dinner, the little maiden 
flitting to and fro, delighted with the privilege of serving 
her, and smiling response to her talk, as if she knew every 
word she was saying. 

When the host of the cave mansion made his next visit 
to his guest and patient, he pronounced the foot so much 
better that she was allowed to put it down a few minutes 
at a time when she felt inclined. 

“ You are so strong and vigorous, my dear, that you soon 
regain lost power, but we will go to the mouth of the cave 
where you w^ere this morning as the afternoon is pleasant, 
and wrapped in this fox robe you will take no cold.” 

So she was conveyed as before to the point of view she 
had occupied in the morning. 

“Do you see diagonally across the ravine southeast from 
us, the big flat rock you call ‘ Table Rock ? ’ ” 

“Oh, yes, I do see it plainly, why that is where I fell 
from, or rather from a point about twenty feet below.” 

Yes, that is correct, and I will now try and explain to 
you how I came to have you for my welcome guest and pa- 
tient. On that afternoon Alex, our dog, that you saw yes- 
terday, was prowling along the edge of the ravine here, for 
he is wonderfully sure-footed and makes his way deep down 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


73 


into the depth by a pathway of his own. On this occasion 
he was attracted evidently by the landslide which carried 
you down. He has singularly keen sight and hearing, and 
he became very much excited. No doubt the dog supposed 
it was some large animal making the disturbance. How- 
ever, he made so much noise and seemed so terribly in earn- 
est that I told Adolph to take the field-glass, a very power- 
ful one which I brought from St. Petersburg with me, and 
proceed to what we call the observatory, from which we can 
see the greater part of the ravine and the glen beyond. 
He returned in about half an hour and reported that there 
had been a slide, and that he could plainly distinguish a 
human figure, he thought a woman, lying in the broken 
mass of earth and trees. Having full confidence in his good 
judgment and visual power, for he has the unerring sight 
of a mountaineer for long distances, I resolved to make the 
attempt at rescue. It was a dangerous and difficult un- 
dertaking. Of course we might have gone round and 
reached you fi’om the other side of the ravine, or we might 
have roused the people near and secured assistance. But 
we are peculiarly situated here, as no doubt you begin to 
understand, and neither of these plans would have been 
feasible to render the immediate assistance which one pos- 
sibly seriously injured might require. Besides, I am too 
old to have accompanied Adolph, and he could not have 
acted alone. Only two hours of daylight remained to us 
and something must be done at once. You know the ra- 
vine narrows opposite the table rock so that it is not more 
than two or three hundred feet across. Yet at that point 
is the deepest part of the entire gorge. Now, some years 
ago when Adolph used to be out hunting and trapping on 
the other side of the ravine, he would at close of day find 
himself compelled to walk five or six miles heavily burdened 
with game, while his home was only about a stone’s throw 
directly across the ravine. To find some way of bridging 


74 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


tlie chasm was the problem, and finally together we solved 
it. I had spent two years among the Swiss mountaineers, 
after leaving my native country and before coming to this con- 
tinent, and had often observed them in their ingenious de- 
vices for crossing crevasses and chasms. Without wearying 
you with details which might not be interesting, I will say 
that we constructed a wire cable reaching from one side of 
the Big Kavine at the nari’ow part to the other. The end on 
the far side being higher than the one on this. From this 
cable a strong basket was made to run suspended, and so 
Adolph is able to go back and forward as suits him. Of 
course none but a mountaineer or a sailor could attempt it, 
but he has been both and has no fear. It was by this road 
that we determined to fetch you, not knowing as yet who 
you were, only conscious that a fellow-being needed instant 
help. It was decided that Adolph and Nadia should go 
over together, and I was to give the help needed in assist- 
ing you up here.” 

Elsie had listened with almost breathless attention, only 
showing her intense 'interest by frequent starts and alter- 
nate flushing and paling, but here she could restrain herself 
no longer. 

“Oh, surely,” she said, bursting into tears and laying a 
hand upon the arm of the narrator ; “surely Nadia did not 
make such a dreadful trip. How could she ? ” 

“ Kussian women of Nadia’s blood fear nothing,” said the 
old man, proudly. “ Besides she is remarkably strong and 
active. When j'ou hear more of her life and what she has 
been through, this will seem a mere nothing. But we had 
better go to the fire as it is becoming chilly.” 

When comfortably seated by the fire the exciting narra- 
tive was resumed. 

“Some time Nadia or Adolph may tell you how they 
managed to sling you, wrapped in a bear skin, from the 
point where they found you lying motionless, to the place 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


75 


some sixty feet below, leading by a path to the basket. It 
was hard work, but they did it and did it bravely and well, 
as your living presence here to-night testifies. On this side 
we had to raise you up about one hundred feet, but we 
have been doing it for Adolph for the past five years once 
or twice a week during the .season, so it was soon accom- 
phshed. Sophia and I attended to that. I need not tell 
you how astonished and gratified I was to find I had been 
instrumental, under the Divine guidance, in rescuing the 
daughter of Mr. Hastings, of The Hermitage, for whom I 
have a j)rofound respect.” 

“ What a grateful girl I ought to be for such courage 
and kindness. I must thank Nadia and the other kind 
brave friend. When may I do so ? ” 

“Nadia and I are thanked already by the pleasure of 
having you with us, and Adolph will be happy to pay his 
respects to you to-morrow, perhaps. But you have had 
excitement enough for one day and so I will say good- 
night,” and giving her his hand with all the innate good- 
ness and geniality of his nature beaming from the vener- 
able face, he left the room. 

Elsie w^as so excited by the story of her rescue that she 
could scarcely taste the delicate little supper which Sophia 
brought in, greatly to that young woman’s annoyance, who 
manifested her vexation by making use of a number of 
frightfully long words in the language which Elsie was be- 
ginning to like very much indeed. Liking a language not 
our mother tongue consists largely in liking the people 
who first use it in our hearing. At least this is a not in- 
frequent experience. Before the time for retiring arrived, 
when Elsie knew that Nadia would appear, she could not 
resist the temptation to send for her so as to thank her for 
her courage and kindness in the rescue. 

They understood each other although very little intelligi- 
ble language passed between them. Elsie acted the whole 


76 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


thing out in pantomime and ended by kissing her warmly, 
and Sophia too, greatly to that little lady’s delight, who 
kept up a chatter in the expressive vernacular of her 
mother’s land. 

The one thought now with Elsie was to see and tell her 
father all that had happened to her and to find out the 
under history of her benefactors, and try to reward them 
in some way. But sandwiched between these thoughts 
another would obtrude itself, and appear and reappear in 
the rather mixed dreams which came to her when she did 
finally fall asleep. It was the imaginary face and form of 
the hero who had dared so much for her. Adolph, who 
and what was he, and what relation did he bear to Nadia, 
and Sophia, and the Patriarch ? This hero did trouble her 
sleep and appear in a score of facial contortions through 
the visions of the night. 


CHAPTER VIH. 


SUNSHINE AGAIN. 

“ Heke you are, Mrs. St. Johns. I have been looking for 
you everywhere. Here is a letter from my nephew in 
London, and he desires to be kindly remembered to you, 
as I had told him in a former letter that you would 
probably be with us about this time.” 

“ He is very thoughtful to remember us amid all the dis- 
tractions of London life. How is he getting on ? ” 

‘‘He writes very cheerfully, and alludes jocularly to 
another adventure he has had at the Thompson’s Villa, 
some twenty miles or so out of the city.” 

“An adventure, how delightful, do tell us about it, Mr. 
Hastings,” said the elder Miss St. Johns, gaily. 

“If it is not a family secret,” remarked Alfarina. 

“ Of course I meant that, Alf,” returned the elder, slightly 
piqued. “ Mi*. Hastings understood me, I am sure.” 

“ Certainly, and there are no secrets, I assure you,” and 
here the gentleman gave a graphic description of the inci- 
dent as narrated in the letter. It appeared that on a recent 
occasion, while spending a few days at the Yews Villa, 
Seaman had accompanied Miss Thompson on a walking ex- 
cursion, and that while returning somewhat belated, cross- 
ing a piece of lonely common or moor, they had been 
accosted by a couple of sturdy tramps demanding alms. 
This being refused, one of the fellow^s addressed a rude ob- 
servation to the young lady, and was promptly knocked 
down by her companion, The two roughs, who were armed 


78 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


with cudgels, then attacked him, and “ for a brief season,” 
to use his expression, “the air was merry with strife.” 
Fortunately the American carried a trusty bit of blackthorn, 
and was an expert in handling it, being familiar with 
broadsword exercise. Yet it was doubtful how the affair 
might have ended, the assailants being stout and active, had 
not Miss Thompson, at first an affrighted spectator of the 
fray, promptly retreated to a near heap of broken stones, 
and thence directed such a vigorous fire upon the enemy, 
and with such skilful aim, that the diversion enabled Sea- 
man to “ put in a few blows where they would do the most 
good,” and the scamps took to flight. 

“Hurrah for the English pluck, British blood tells. 
That’s the girl for me,” said Koland, strutting up and down 
the room airily, as if he owned a large quantity of the afore- 
said fluid, and could in right of such ownership do doughty 
deeds if called on. Alfarina, who never lost an opportun- 
ity of “ taking the young man down a peg,” as she would 
express it, spite of maternal remonstrances, exclaimed : 

“ Why, Roland, you’ve forgotten it was Miss Thompson, 
and not you, that did the fighting.” 

“ That makes no difference. Miss Saucebox. We come of 
English stock, and I feel the fire in my veins.” 

“ But, my dear Mr. Hastings, how could a young lady do 
such a thing ? I’m very sure I should have fainted. It was 
a dreadful thing to have to do,” and here the lady shud- 
dered tragically. 

“Really, Mrs. St. Johns, you must excuse me, but I saw 
you face a pretty savage-looking foe some days since in this 
very room and you showed no signs of fainting.” 

The lady colored, whether with annoyance or pleasure her 
host could not determine, and replied quietly : 

“ Ah, yes. I can talk to such people, but I really could 
never fight them. I wouldn’t even think of such a thing.” 

“Not with Hiram, I hope,” said Mr. Hastings, and here 


THE EUSSIAlSr EEFUGEE. 


79 


tlie idea of tins delicately-reared woman, who for all avail- 
able purposes of life, was one of the most helpless of her 
sex, engaged in single combat with such a specimen of the 
race as the Giraffe, almost overcame the gentleman’s gravity 
and politeness at the same time. 

“ Still we must all allow that the English girl did the very 
best thing under the circumstances,” quietly insinuated 
Alfarina, “ for if she had not helped, and so turned the tide 
of battle, it might have been very bad for them both.” 

“ True, Alf,” said her father, wdio just entered, but had 
read the letter earlier, “ fainting w'ould be a dangerous thing 
under such conditions.” 

“ I agree with you, father, and it was very plucky of them 
both. What a rare couple they would make if things should 
turn that way.” 

‘‘ There, now, Roland, weaving one of your romances 
already. I should think Dr. Seaman would prefer a more 
delicate — I mean a more refined — lady for his wife,” saying 
which the young lady turned toward the window, with a 
tell-tale color suffusing her face, followed by the mischiev- 
ous looks of her sister Alfarina, who slyly and meaningly 
remarked : 

Yes, Angie, and you and I know the young lady who 
would just suit, don’t we, dear ? ” 

All smiled, and Roland laughed heartily. 

“ See what you get for attacking your brother, Angie. 
Just serves you right.” 

“Where is Dr. Seaman now, Mr. Hastings-? You say they 
caught those two scoundrels ? ” interposed the mother, fear- 
ful that under the vexation of the moment her favorite child 
might say something not quite refined. 

“ He is at his studies again in London, and says he shall 
probably return to this country in a month or six weeks. 
Yes, the assailants are locked up, waiting the meeting of the 
assizes, so I suppose Seaniau musj} remain for that anyway.” 


80 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ So the constables are rather disheartened in their 
search for Elsie, and are no wiser as to her locality than 
they were two weeks ago ? ” inquiringly remarked Mr. St. 
Johns. 

“ Oh, they go so far as to declare that she is not in this • 
part of -the country at all, in spite of the glaring fact that 
four communications have been received from her.” 

“ And that long-limbed hunter ” — here the wife glanced at 
her husband approvingly ; to have said long-legged would 
have been unpardonable in her eyes — ‘'is as dumb as an 
oyster, and yet evidently knows all about it ? ” 

“ True, and that is the most singular thing concerning it, 
for I know Hiram would almost give his best rifle, ‘ Squeak- 
ing Jim,’ as he whimsically names it, to bring her home to me 
again, and yet he seems as helpless as any of us. Never- 
theless I know she is safe or the honest fellow wouldn’t 
look as cheerful as he does. Goodness gracious ! There 
they are now,” and dashing forward, forgetful of his usual 
equanimity, Mr. Hastings opened wide the door-window 
leading into the lawn, and was clasping his child in a fond 
embrace before the startled observers had recovered from 
their suiqDrise. 

“No ghosts this time, but real flesh and blood,” said the 
radiant parent, as he led the restored one into the room, 
where all crowded forward to welcome her. 

Ghosts ! said Elsie, after salutations on all sides had 
been given and received, even the servants coming up in a 
body, to shake hands with their young mistress, and wel- 
come her home again ; “ why, who has seen any ghosts? ” 

“ Several persons have declared' solemnly to having seen 
you wandering about the grounds lately by moonlight,” 
answered Roland, looking at her with undisguised admira- 
tion. “I wish it had been my good fortune, but no such 
luck, though I have searched the whole country for you.” 
How kind of you to remember a delinc^xient §p well, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


81 


and take so mucli trouble. I am afraid I have caused you 
all an immense amount of trouble and anxiety, and that has 
greatly distressed me, but I really could not help it,” and 
here she looked from one to another with tears in her eyes. 
“ And father all alone without his housekeeper to entertain 
his friends.” 

“Everything has been admirable, my dear, only our 
sorrow for your absence ; it did seem as if we could hardly 
bear it. How well you are looking,” and here Mrs. St. 
Johns kissed her again with almost a motherly fondness. 

“ How good it is to be home again. Have j^ou had tea 
yet?” 

“ It must be on the table now ; but where is Hiram ? 
I certainly saw him with you before I opened the window.” 

“Yes, father, the faithful feUow saw me safely home, but 
I fear he has left for his house.” 

Such seemed to be the case, for search and inquiry failed 
to produce the Giraffe. The joy of the household was com- 
plete, for not only was a cloud of anxiety removed, but the 
sunlight of a bright, healthy nature w^as restored to the 
mansion ; and the singular experience of Elsie furnished an 
inexhaustible subject for conversation. Of course, she w^as 
subjected to a small battery of questions, which it required 
all her ingenuity to answer without giving offense on the 
one hand, or breaking faith on the other. The parting 
words of the old patriarch yet rang in her ears : “ My 

child, I exact no promises, I simply trust you. We are 
unknown to the world ; let us remain so. When the ne- 
cessity for this isolation ceases to exist, I wdll inform you, 
and you can speak freely.” 

When they were snugly seated at tea, the attack was be- 
gun by Mrs. St. Johns, who, indeed, had put one or two 
questions before, which had been simply avoided by Elsie, 
but now directly asked, “ Where have you been living, 
Elsie ; we are all dying to know ? ” 


82 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Stopping with some very kind, pleasant people, Mrs. 
St. Johns ; I never was treated more generously and hos- 
pitably in my life. I only wish you could know them.” 

“ But, Elsie,” said her father, noticing the want of direct- 
ness in the answer ; “ if they are really good people, why 
should they be so studious to conceal their identity ? ” 

“I would stake my life on their integrity and genuineness, 
but there are reasons why they wish to remain unknowm.” 

' “ It is very difficult to understand how’ such a thing can 
be possible in a civilized country like this, if the people 
are hving correct lives,” returned her father. “ I can easily 
understand the feelings of gratitude you entertain toward 
them and I have the same, and would be glad of an oppor- 
tunity to thank them in person, but yet you must know% 
my dear child, that this concealment does not look well.” 

Elsie had steeled herself for this ordeal, and had re- 
hearsed it in her own mind during the past few days a 
hundred times, perhaps, but it tried her more than she 
had anticipated. When among her new friends and ben- 
efactors, she had felt it would be easy, comparatively, to pro- 
tect them, in their wished concealment, against all assault ; 
but, removed from their immediate influence, and with 
the presence of her beloved parent, and these friends, and 
the home associations all powerfully swaying her naturally 
frank disposition to unconstrained conversation on her 
singular adventure, she began at once to realize she had no 
light task before her. It would have been joy beyond 
measure to have unbosomed herself to these sympathizing 
hearers, but all her instincts of honor forbade. She had 
the irksome task before her of appearing to tell much, but 
in reality revealing nothing. 

If you are bound by a promise exacted from you under 
compulsion, you are not legaUy bound to keep it, my dear. 
Don’t you agree with me, gentlemen ? ” suggested Mrs. 
St, Johns, suavely. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


83 


Certainly,” assented her husband, “ no agreement under 
coercion is binding in law, if such coercion can be proved.” 

“ If it is a question of honor then Elsie must decide for 
herself. Of course we shall all regret it, but if my daughter 
feels that it would be against her conscience to break si- 
lence on this point, I would not urge her for a moment. 
I can trust you, Elsie,” looking at her fondly. 

The young lady left her place at the table, and stepping 
to her father’s side imprinted a kiss warmly on his fore- 
head. 

“ Nothing would please me better than to tell you my 
adventures, if such they can be called, freely and fully, but 
I cannot do so conscientiously, and so for the present must 
appear in an unfavorable Hght, which I regret exceedingly.” 

“ At least you will tell us if you are bored by any horrid 
promise or midnight oath backed with all sorts of dreadful 
penalties,” said Roland, dramatically. 

This query brought back Elsie’s cheerfulness, and re- 
moved the feeling of restraint which was beginning to creep 
over the company. 

‘‘No promise or oath at all,” she replied, “I am simply 
on my honor.” 

“ Then we are all bound in honor to help you keep your 
faith,” remarked Alfarina, warmly. 

The young hostess turned toward her with a grateful 
look. 

“At least you will not be angry with us for asking ques- 
tions, for I know I shall forget myself twenty times a day 
unless you positively forbid me to speak at all, and then I 
will take the vow of La Trappe and say nothing,” urged the 
young gentleman of the party. 

“ Not at all,” laughed Elsie, “ to have you silent would 
be too cruel a penalty for us all. Ask all the questions you 
please, and I will take my chances of being entrapped into 
admissions.” 


84 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“A fair bargain,” said the young man, delightedly. “It 
will be a case of diamond cut diamond.” 

“ I think you are really mean, Eoland, when Miss Hast- 
ings told us she did not wish to inform us of her curious life 
of the past three weeks,” Miss St. Johns ventured to remark. 

A certain sarcasm in the tone touched Elsie, who replied 
gently, “ Call me Elsie as you used to, Angelina ; but your 
brother is fair enough, for he warns me in advance, and I 
do not wish this matter to cause the least restraint in our 
intercourse. Ask any questions you like about anything, 
and I will answer as I can.” 

This settled the question, and now the conversation be- 
came general and the young hostess found that she needed 
all her mental resources and adroitness to hold her own. 
When the party separated for the night it had been ascer- 
tained by the assailing ones that Miss Hastings’ entertainer 
was an old man, a very old man. Also, that there was a 
young married woman whose husband was absent, and a 
little girl of twelve or thereabouts, daughter of the other. 
Also, Eoland was satisfied that he had trapped Elsie into 
admitting that there had been a young man of fine appear- 
ance and manners in the strangers’ family, and this gave 
him more annoyance than he was w’illing to admit even to 
himself. His sisters denied that Elsie had admitted the 
existence of this Apollo, and Alf rallied her dandy brother 
unmercifully about his persistent efforts to entrap Miss 
Hastings into an admission of the fact. However, all went 
to rest in the best of humor and with pleasant anticipations 
of the morrow. 

While the inhabitants of The Hermitage are slumbering, 
we will try to take up the dropped thread of the cave ex- 
perience to the point of Elsie’s appearance at home again. 
Under the skilful treatment of the old doctor, the patient 
rapidly convalesced and was able in a few days to bear the 
foot on the ground without much pain, Her interest in the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


85 


new acquaintances deepened as she came to know them bet- 
ter : their simple life and habits ; the kind generous feel- 
ing they manifested toward the guest whom accident had 
placed in their midst ; above all, the deep affection shown 
constantly in their intercourse with each other, touched her 
exceedingly^ She felt sure that no g-uile lurked here. No 
criminal career rendered this retirement from the world 
necessary. They were entirely unknown to the neighbor- 
hood she was satisfied, with the exception of Hiram, who 
seemed to be on very friendly footing with the patriarch, 
and for whom the little maiden manifested a sort of won- 
dering friendship ; for her eyes, Elsie noticed, seemed to 
fairly dilate as she gazed on him, seemingly speculating as 
to how he ever attained such an altitude. Yet they were 
excellent friends, although each time he visited the cave- 
dwellers the acquaintance with the httle Russian seemed to 
to be begun from the foundation. He had visited them 
three times during Elsie’s sojourn in the cave, greatly to 
her delight, for as she told him, “it was next to seeing 
home again,” which remark so pleased the honest fellow 
that his contortions to express his joy sent Sophia flying 
into the end of the room in a comic pai’oxysm of fear. 

“ Darn my butes. Miss Elsie, Hiram ’d give six cat pelts 
to brought yer father to this house. An’ I reckon, rayther, 
the squire ’d give a hoss to come. But couldn’t be, IVIiss 
Elsie, couldn’t be. Yer see, Miss Elsie, Hiram give his 
grip to the kernel here, and no going back on that, if he 
be a furrener.” 

Elsie ventured to question him as to how he became ac- 
quainted with the strangers, but he suddenly became deaf, 
and the conversation was entirely one-sided imtil she 
changed the topic. She described her escape, but soon 
found he knew all the details of it, the location of the cable, 
the working of the basket, everything seemed quite famil- 
iar to the woodsman. 


86 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Why, Hiram, I really believe you have been across the 
ravine in the basket yourself ? ” 

The trapper smiled in his grotesque way. 

“ Yaras, I rither should say so. More times, mebbe, 
than you’ve had fuU moons.” 

One thing excited her surprise somewhat, and that was 
that the patriarch was never in the room when the trapper 
was present. This might be, she argued to herself, from 
a delicate consideration for her on the part of the host, 
who might naturally suppose she would wish to talk with 
her old friend about home matters, and would not put the 
constraint of his presence upon her freedom. This she 
knew would be quite in keeping with his character, so far 
as she had obseiwed it. Yet she naturally suspected that 
another motive operated a!tso, the desire to avoid questions 
before a third party. 

She had hoped to explore the cave before leaving, but as 
the old Kussian said that it would involve considerable fa- 
tigue and her remaining four or five days longer with them, 
she decided to forego it. 

“But, my child,” he remarked on the day of her depart- 
ure, “ I now consider you one of us, and we shall see you 
here again ; then you can examine the cave and the mar- 
vels which are created by the viewless power working in 
the secret places of the earth.” 

“ Oh, I should like it above all things, but how shall I know 

when to come. I do not know your name even, and ” 

here she paused, trying to avoid even the appearance of a 
curiosity which she felt she had no right to ask him to grat- 
ify, since he had not volunteered the information himself. 
“ You know I may have trouble in finding my way here.” 

“That can be easily managed,” said her host, reading her 
thoughts beneath the veil of words, and smiling at her, re- 
assuringly. “ Tell Hiram when you wish to come, and a way 
will be provided. As for my name, names are little value 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


87 


wlien we know the person, but you shall know mine some 
day, for the present call me the ‘Exile,’ for such I am. 
My native land can never know me more. The true sons 
of Russia must leave the home of the unnatural parent or 
else band to compel reformation, though it be through 
blood and fire.” 

The old man’s frame seemed to heighten and expand, 
and his eyes glowed with a fierce and lurid light which his 
hearer had not seen there before. She felt awed before the 
deep, intense passion w’hich seemed to surge through his 
aged frame with all the intensity of j^outh. She felt that a 
dynasty, no matter how strongly entrenched in dignity and 
power, must yet have in it elements of weakness and deprav- 
ity, when by its acts it made exiles and enemies of such 
men as this. No father, she thought, who alienates his 
best children, and turns their hands against him, can be 
right, no matter how fail* he may appear to the world. 

The Exile had barely touched on his misfortunes when in 
conversation with her, on the contrary, he had studiously 
avoided personal topics. Yet he had hinted that political 
reasons compelled his present life ; that he was a member 
of some secret organization she concluded from several 
matters which had accidentally come to her knowledge. As 
to how Hiram came to be associated with the cave-dwellers 
she could not even form a conjecture, for he took little or 
no interest in the politics of his own country, having often 
declared in her hearing that he never had voted and never 
would vote, for fear “H’d help put in some tamed var- 
ment of a critter as’d do some pesky thing or other, an’ 
kinder put shame onto we who put ’im thar.” He was a 
simple, unlearned fellow devoted to nature, and in her school 
had garnered much lore. His integrity was unquestioned 
by any who knew him, and his shrewdness, when he chose, 
was phenomenal. No, Hiram was connected with the cave 
folks by some other tie than a political one. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A CONUNDRUM. 

Elsie’s return to the mansion was the beginning of a 
series of rides, excursions, etc., which had been postponed 
on account of her absence, and the uncertainty which hung 
over her condition. She had to submit to an unlimited 
amount of teasing and quizzing from the young people, and 
remarks from the older, all of which were given and received 
in a sort of serio-comic way which did not interfere at all 
with the general enjoyment. She had a secret to guard 
which she had unwittingly challenged them to find out, and 
no efforts were spared in that direction. If she had simply 
requested that her confidence should not be tempted and 
that her enforced absence be not alluded to, the desire, as 
said before, would have been granted at once. But she 
was not one to recede from any position she had once vol- 
untarily taken, and her associates were glad of some object 
to aim at, and Roland had promised a box of kid gloves to 
whichever of his sisters should find out the secret of the 
residence, and the name of^ the young lady’s entertainer. 
If, on the contrary, he was the fortunate discoverer, some- 
thing very choice was to be the memento of his triuhiph, 
from their hands. One matter, however, puzzled the young 
man exceedingly, and that was the fact of Elsie always be- 
traying a half-confused consciousness whenever the sup- 
posed young man in the case was alluded to. It had been 
a mere random shot of his, and he quickly noted that her 
response was not in the same light vein in which she had 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


89 


SO dexterously parried their other questions. To be sure, 
he had failed completely in trying to entrap “ the astute 
defendant,” as his father termed her, into any damaging 
admissions, although he had examined and cross-examined 
the “ accused ” before his sisters, empanelled as a special 
jury, one morning for nearly an hour, ending where he be- 
gan, so far as information was concerned. He ended his 
examination by reading from the lexicon all the Christian 
and Hebrew names of men there given, slowly pronouncing 
each one and scrutinizing closely the fair face of the sus- 
pected^ one to detect aught of confusion or self-conscious- 
ness, but all without avail. 

‘‘ Upon my word. Miss Hastings, you would make a cap- 
ital witness ; I think I could trust you before any jury. 
Not that Boland is an expert in examining, but he has 
shown more legal ability than I ever suspected, in this 
audacious examination to which he has subjected your 
good nature.” 

“ Eeally, you ought to make a profound apology to Miss 
Elsie, and be indicted yourself and heavily fined,” went on 
Mr. St. Johns, who presided as judge, “ or be imprisoned 
for false accusation.” 

“lam quite willing to forego any redress that the law 
might afford me, provided the accuser will declare publicly 
that he believes me innocent of the charge.” 

“ Let the case go to the jury,” urged the persistent Bo- 
land, “ for I am almost sure I saw the accused change color 
at one of the names.” 

“ It is no case for the jury, sir, you have no case in this 
court ; nevertheless if the jui’y have determined on a verdict 
they are at liberty to announce it without leaving their 
seats. What say you, ladies of the jury ? ” 

“ Guilty ! ” said Alf, solemnly. 

“Guilty of what?” ejaculated her father, with a ludi- 
crous look of astonishment. 


90 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Guilty of concealing the facts of the case,” returned the 
jury spokeswoman, 

“ The jury is discharged in disgrace, and I charge the 
sheriff never to empanel any member of it again within my 
jurisdiction,” said the judge loftily, leaving his chair. 

Mr. Hastings was much amused when this comic trial of 
his daughter was recounted to him, by the young lady her- 
self, in a most pathetic manner. It was in presence of her 
persecutors. 

“ Ah, my dear, you now find how hard it is to keep a 
secret.” 

“ If Miss Hastings finds it so hard to keep the secret her- 
self, why, ah ! if she will share it with me I will help her to 
keep it, you know. ‘ Two heads better than one,’ you 
know,” said the young gentleman, with an insinuating air. 

“ Yes, do, Elsie, for as Eoland has plenty of vacant space 
in his mental habitation, he can easily accommodate your 
secret without injuring it by crowding,” quickly observed 
the watchful Alfarina. 

A vengeful look was shot from the languid eyes of the 
dandy, and to soothe his ruffled feelings Elsie hastened to 
remark : 

“ If I had such a secret as you seem to credit me with, 
Mr. Roland, I do not know of anyone to whom I would 
sooner impart it than yourself. I know it would be safe in 
your hands.” 

It was the oil on the troubled water, and all was harmony 
again. But apart from this repartee and good-humored 
railleiy, Elsie really was aware of a certain self-conscious- 
ness in herself whenever any allusion was made to the 
young man of the family, meaning, of course, the family of 
the unkno-svn benefactor. She was angry with herself for 
this, as she had never seen the individual in question, and 
only knew of Adolph’s existence from the Exile. 

Singnlarly enough, while daily expecting to meet the un- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


91 


known hero of her escape or rescue, he had not appeared 
during her seventeen days’ residence in the cave. She was 
more disappointed than she was willing to own, as her 
gTateful heart longed to thank him for his courage and 
kindness on her behalf. Still she could not but admit that 
this studied avoidance of her, for such she felt sure it w^as, 
only enhanced the curiosity and interest she felt concerning 
him. She recollected well, how, that early in their acquaint- 
ance the Exile had hinted that she would have opportunity 
of thanking Adolph personally, but day after day passed 
and no Adolph appeared, and latterly she was sure she de- 
tected a slight shade of annoyance in the patriarch’s tone? 
whenever his son w^as mentioned in her presence. . 

He had informed Elsie that Adolph was an adopted son, 
“but yet my son,” he added, emphatically. “ I had a son, 
the hope of my life, but” — and here he paused and seemed 
to be looking dreamily into the past — “ he died and left me 
in a winter of bereavement and sorrow. But from the 
frosty wunter came bright spring, and renewed life is mine 
again in Adolph.” 

His language was mystical, but she inferred that he in- 
tended to express the satisfaction and comfort which his 
adopted child gave him in his old age. Also she thought 
the obscm’ity of his words ai'ose from the natural difficulty 
most foreigners have in clearly putting their thoughts in 
idiomatic English. 

The early winter kept bright and crisp, the days were 
glorious, and*Christmas arrived before the storms had fairly 
put in an appearance. 

The St. Johns, after a five weeks’ visit, had returned 
home, first exacting a promise from Elsie to spend Febru- 
ary with them in the city. 

“Now, my dear girl, I shall expect you, and can take no 
excuse, so no more adventures in funny places, masquer- 
ading among curious people that your friends mustn’t know. 


92 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


There, there, don't blush child, its all right, I dare say, and 
when you come, in February, you will tell us all about it. 
The mysterious ogre will let you by that time, no doubt.” 

And so they departed, and Elsie gave almost a sigh of 
relief, for the young lady had been sorely tried between 
making her guests happy and at the same time avoiding 
their questions. However, they were gone, and really no 
wiser concerning the secret than when Elsie returned home 
from the cave. The father and daughter were alone again, 
and things resumed their wonted channel. 

“Father, I hope you do not blame me in this matter. If 
you knew how hard it is to keep anjlhing secret from you, 
you would pity me.” 

“My own one,” said her parent, kissing her fondly, “ your 
father has not been an uninterested observer of your 
struggle between duty and inclination. I am proud of you, 
for even if your view of this matter is a false one, yet I 
always wish you to be guided by conscience and obey what 
to you is the higher law. Your promise is, as I understand, 
rather implied than expressed, to preserve silence in this 
matter, but I am satisfied to wait patiently until you can 
honorably give me your confidence. One question I will 
ask, leaving to you the option of answering. Have you had 
any communication with these people since leaving them ? ” 

“ None whatever, but I will say that I more than ex- 
pected it, yet nothing has reached me.” 

“ That is well, and although I will not bind you by a 
promise, I will say that it would be a great satisfaction to 
me if I thought all connection with them had ceased for- 
ever.” 

“ Oh, father, don’t say that, after saving my life and treat- 
ing me with so much kindness. It is not like you.” 

I recognize the obligation, Elsie. I would gladly repay 
it, but what I mean is, secret communications. Anything 
above board is all right. Anything in the broad daylight, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


93 


but things which have to be concealed are always suspi- 
cious, and, remember, your knowledge of the world is 
limited.” 

Elsie looked distressed, and the tears began to flow. 

“ Father, I could not bear it if you suspected me for a 
moment. I will promise you this, that I will do nothing 
in this matter unworthy of my father’s daughter.” 

“That will do, my dear,” taking her hands. “I have 
trusted the child and the youth, I will trust the woman ; 
for you are now a self-reliant woman, and this incident of 
the past few weeks has helped your maturity wonderfully. 
No, I will not curtail your freedom, but will welcome your 
confidence in this instance when you feel you can properly 
give it me.” 

“ Many thanks, my father and mother in one,” kissing 
him twice, “ and I shall not rest until I can bring you into 
friendly contact and acquaintance with my new friends.” 

This settled the matter between these two, so dear to 
each other, and between whom no concealment of any- 
thing had ever occurred until the young girl’s adventure 
and rescue, and the subsequent detention in the subter- 
ranean home of the friendly Kussians. 


CHAPTER X. 


A NEW FACE. 

By the middle of January the winter, after raging for 
some time in varied transitory phases of its power, fairly 
settled down to its work and held the earth in a firm em- 
brace. Ice and enow everywhere gave wheels a resting 
spell and called into active service everything in the shape 
of cutter or sleigh. 

One bright, cold morning, being alone, for her father had 
been called to the city on business, Elsie resolved to take 
a trip to the table-rock, where she had not been since the 
accident, and obtain a view of this wondrous gorge in its 
wintry setting. The morning was perfect, everything white 
and still, only the sleigh-bell breaking the frosty aii’ into 
rhythmic waves as her horse sped swiftly on. She soon ar- 
rived at the road leading along the far side of the ravine, 
and was then compelled to travel more slowly, as the snow 
was deeper and less compact on account of the limited 
amount of travel in that direction during the winter season. 
She reached the table-rock and checked her horse, so as to 
command a full view of the valley beyond the deep, yawn- 
ing abyss below. The silence, now that the bell had ceased 
tinkling, was eloquent, and reached her soul with a power 
and meaning that no speech or sound could have done. 
One never realizes their personality and intensity of being as 
when alone in a prafound silence. It gives the idea, in a fee- 
ble sense, of the condition wliich prevails in the eternal space 
— an intangible ether and the central Me, But so long as 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


95 


oul* two feet rest on mother earth such moods must be 
brief, and the earth life will not let us be. The scene and 
the memories of her last visit, and what it led to, drew her 
thoughts gradually to the “House in the Earth,” away 
across the gulf, and she tried to determine its locality. 

Suddenly a loud report burst upon her ears, scattering 
her thoughts and day-dreams in every direction, and 
startling Gyp so, that before she could firmly grasp the 
reins, they were jerked out of her hands, and the black 
horse, with his ears close to his head, was speeding down 
the road like a meteor. 

In vain his mistress called to him, trying to soothe him 
with pet phrases. On he fled, like the wind, and, in a min- 
ute or two, a sudden whirl, and the young lady found her- 
self plunged into a chaos of snow and cutter robes. 

It did seem as if she could never extricate herself, so 
thoroughly was she entangled in the wraps, and imbedded 
in the deep snow, As soon as she had freed her head she 
obeyed her first impulse and laughed gleefully at the pre- 
dicament she found herself in. 

“ Oh, Gyp, Gyp, you villain. I never thought you would 
serve me such a trick. To desert your mistress in such a 
plight as this.” 

“ Allow me to assist you,” said a pleasant voice. “ I fear 
I was the cause of your mishap.” And immediately a strong 
hand began to remove the encumbrances which beset her 
on every side. 

“ Thank you very much. If you will just help me with 
this heavy robe I can manage well enough.” 

So dexterously did the stranger work, that in a minute 
or so Miss Hastings was on the road feeling none the worse 
for her snow bath. 

“ I am indeed obliged to you, but where can Gyp have 
gone to?” 

“ Don’t be alarmed about him, there is a pretty big snow- 


96 


THE RUSSIAK REFUGEE. 


drift about half a mile on, and he will run into that if he 
does not stop before. I will go on and find him, if you 
don’t mind staying here.” 

“ I will walk on with you ; it will be safer than staying 
here in the cold,” said Elsie. 

The stranger seemed pleased at the suggestion, and after 
feebly opposing it, on the ground that she might be tired, 
yielded, and piled up the robes by the side of the road, and 
they started in the direction taken by the horse. 

The new friend, as Elsie observed, was a tall, well-devel- 
oped, vigorous-looking man, seemingly in the prime of life. 
He had regular features, and wore a full brown beard. He 
walked with the easy, careless grace of conscious physical 
power, accompanied by excellent health. His manners 
were frank and unrestrained, and, yet, she was puzzled ex- 
actly in what rank to place the new acquaintance. He was 
hardly a gentleman, according to the village conception of 
the term, meaning the professional men, leading merchants, 
manufacturers, and those of independent fortune, or favored 
birth. In truth, Elsie had never yet been able to decide in 
her own mind what the conventional gentleman was. She 
had a very decided opinion of what a true man was, but, 
somehow, those called by common consent,- gentlemen, did 
not always exhibit the traits of exalted manhood. 

One thing she quickly decided on, her companion was 
not an ordinary man, such as she had met in that region 
repeatedly, and sometimes in her benevolent expeditions 
been brought into contact with — yes, often into closer con- 
tact than was pleasant. Tlie stranger spoke with a decision 
and promptness that denoted one who did his own thinking 
and had decided opinions on most subjects. He did not, 
she quickly noticed, speak like a college or school bred man, 
that is, a bookish man ; in fact from one of his remarks she 
inferred that he was inclined to despise such, but his lan- 
guage, though simple in choice of words, was good, and did 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


97 


not seriously infringe on grammatical rules. Their talk 
was of the neighborhood, the mountain scenery, and natural 
history, in which latter field he seemed an enthusiast, and 
yet his knowledge was, she concluded, entirely the result 
of observation and personal investigation, for when she 
mentioned an important discovery made by a German 
savant, and quoted in the scientific journal her father 
received, with reference to what they had just been discuss- 
ing, and called to her memory by a remark of his, he 
showed great surprise and interest, manifesting by his re- 
marks that scientific books were largely unknown to him. 

They found the horse standing up to his neck in a snow- 
drift looking penitent enough, and he neighed pitifully on 
seeing his young mistress. Fortunately, the cutter was un- 
injured, with the exception of one of the shafts, which was 
splintered. They concluded to walk back to where the 
robes were, the gentleman leading the horse. 

“ I have a strap attached to my game-bag near by, which 
will hold the shaft secure until you reach home.” 

It seemed that his shooting a rabbit had been the cause of 
Gyp’s sudden make-off, he not knowing that anybody was 
near. 

“It has been a lesson to me that I will not forget,” he 
said, “ and I know you will try to forget it.” 

“ Why, you need not apologize,” regarding him wonder- 
ingly that he should be so much annoyed at an accident. 
“ It might have happened in a score of ways. It was this 
naughty Gyp’s fault. He ought to be ashamed of himself.” 

The shaft was soon put in safe condition and the vehicle 
ready for the homeward start. The lady took her seat and 
her companion put the lines in her hand. 

He then removed his beaver hunting-cap, showing a high, 
white, intellectual forehead in contrast with the bronzed 
face and hands. As he stood respectfully on one side, 
cap in hand, clad in his close-fitting fur hunting-jacket, and 
7 


98 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


with that independent, yet deferential bearing, she could 
not help thinking, “ What a manly looking fellow.” 

Believe me, I am veiy grateful to you for your assist- 
ance,” offering her hand to him on the impulse of the mo- 
ment, the thought coming quickly to her, “What would 
Mrs. St. Johns say to my shaking hands with a mere stran- 
ger?” 

He took her hand eagerly, and then to her surprise raised 
it to his lips. 

“ I will gladly drive you home, if ” — hesitating — “ if your 
horse is not safe.” 

She read his thoughts in the hesitating manner, and 
laughed merrily. 

“ Oh, I am not afraid of Gyp ; I am used to driving pretty 
wild, or at least, spirited horses.” 

“ They say Miss Hastings is afraid of nothing, that is,” as 
if afraid he had used an awkward word, “is very fearless,” 
with emphasis on the last, as if satisfied he stood on firm 
verbal foundation now. The sudden elevation of her brow 
and wide opening of the black eyes showed her astonish- 
ment at hearing her name. 

“ Is it possible you know me ? We certainly have never 
met before.” 

“ I think everybody around here knows Miss Hastings,” 
he returned, evasively, and then, as she thought, a little 
bitterly, “ No, it is hardly likely we should have met before, 
or at least, not to notice me.” 

He loosed the rein which he had held under the appear- 
ance of straightening it, and there being no reasonable 
excuse for further delay, she bowed and smiled, saying, 
“ Thank you, very much, good-by ; ” and Gyp darted im- 
pulsively forward under the relaxed rein. 

What trifles, light as snow-flakes, may influence our 
thoughts, our words, our deeds, our lives. What singular 
accidents seem to often govern our acquaintanceship with 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


99 


eacli other. What a trivial matter often decides that an- 
other shall come forward out of the great multitude of the 
unknown, and become an acquaintance, friend, intimate 
companion, even life associate, and influence our mental 
and moral growth through time and perhaps on into the 
eternities. The amount of influence which we exert on 
one another is, in most instances, an imknown quantity, 
but often can be traced back and estimated with sufficient 
accuracy. It is a curious and interesting thought that, 
standing amid the known to-day, to-morrow may bring us 
into contact with a stranger whose life-sphere touching 
ours shall outweigh in the balance of results all we have 
known to the present. Perhaps some such reflections 
often come to the thoughtful on meeting one who impresses 
us favorably at first coming within our individual range of 
social vision. 

Elsie as she drove rapidly homeward could not forget 
the fur-clad huntsman who- had served her with such a 
singular mixture of gallantry, independence, and timidity. 
Her social instincts told her he was not in her own sphere 
of life. Amid the scenes where she had encountered him 
he seemed a sort of sylvan knight, a doughty follower of 
Diana. His presence there seemed natural and consistent. 
There was the vigor and color and graceful self-reliance 
which bespoke a son of the mountain, a votary in nature’s 
own temple. But how would this follower of the chase 
acquit himself in ‘the halls of frivolity and fashion, amid 
those scenes of counterfeits and glittering mockeries, where 
color, brightness, glow and beauty, with mt, talent, genius, 
art, and science, all band in strong brotherhood to enrapture 
the soul, charm the intellect, and enthrall the senses ? She 
smiled at the idea, so incongruous did it appear to her, for 
something told her that the new acquaintance knew no 
more of such scenes than he did of the scientific books of 
the day. “An illiterate man, what a pity, with such a 


100 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


head, too,” said her intellect, but her higher thought, which 
seemed more instinct than intellect, pronounced him manly, 
courteous, brave, intelligent — a natural gentleman, and a 
scholar in the deeper erudition — a graduate in the outside uni- 
versity which numbers among its alumni some of the best of 
the race. “ Nature’s gentleman,” was her final verdict, as she 
drove up to the gate. “ I really wish I knew who he was.” 

Elsie’s training under the careful eye of her father had 
been more varied than that of most country maidens ; for 
her parent had, for her sake, spent two winters in New York, 
and she had mingled in a good deal of fashionable life, 
although her wise guardian would not consent for a mo- 
ment that her robust health should be risked by turning 
night into day. So she would only accept one invitation, 
where her aunt, Mrs. Grace, a leading woman of fashion in 
the metropolis, wife of a prominent lawyer, would have 
wished her to accept four or five. She had been quite a belle, 
and could easily have been married to one of the exquisites, 
with money in place of brains, who hung around her, but 
she held such firmly aloof. 

Although at first fascinated by the adulations and atten- 
tions which were lavished on her, and attracted, as all young- 
people are, by the kaleidoscopic changes of brilliant cos- 
tumes, bright faces, music, and gaiety, and the pleasant social 
pretty nothings which formed so much of the conversations 
she heard, the time of unmasking came, and she saw behind 
the scenes. She realized that society acts its little dramas 
and uses a variety of machinery for the purpose. 

She had been taken once, by her wise parent, into the 
green-room and behind the scenes when he feared the 
mimic hfe of the stage was taking too strong hold of her 
imagination, as she pleaded, with girlish enthusiasm, to be 
permitted to become an actress, after seeing a few good 
performances. The contrast was appalling, for here dingy 
little di-essing-rooms, garments of all colors trimmed with 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


101 


cheap tinsel, and imitation gold-painted paste-board cro’VMis 
and tiaras, trap-doors, ropes, and blocks, and pulleys, in 
short, the usual unwholesome unattractive medley of sights 
and sounds found in such places, grated on her senses. Men 
and women, on whose faces the red and white, not placed 
by nature’s deft hand, showed repulsively, strolled about 
half clad in the gaudy costumes in which as kings, queens, 
lords, knights, squires, ladies of rank, and maidens, nobles, 
and peasants, they had gaily strutted the brief hour before 
the footlights, and so dazzled and delighted her that she 
had supposed, for the short period of delusion, that surely 
’twas heaven on earth to play a noble part before a crowded 
house, and wui the plaudits of the multitude. And when 
the leading lady was gracefully led out, in response to the 
repeated demand of the enthusiastic public, and bent her 
queenly form in acknowledgment, Elsie felt that she must 
be some superior being, living, in some way, apart and dif- 
ferent from ordinary mortals. To kneel before this superb 
creature, the cynosure of all eyes, at whom eyery opera- 
glass in the building was levelled, like so many mimic rifles ; 
to bow reverently before this half-human, haK-divine being, 
and kiss her hand, she felt would be bHss indeed. But now 
she saw the goddess smoking a cigarette, and exchanging 
badinage with some of those lower attendants who, a few 
moments before, approached her only with extreme defer- 
ence, not daring to speak except by permission. 

It was an awakening, and perhaps an unkind one, for 
some of the most enjoyable moments on eai'th are those 
spent under the magic influence of a delusion. The jests, 
laughter, carelessness, and altogether very human conduct 
of these superior beings, who, before the public, seemed, 
with the exception of two or three necessary villains, to be 
incapable of uttering aught else but elevated sentiments 
in a dignified and very becoming manner, grated harshly 
upon her sensitive nature. 


102 


THE RUSSIAN REFITGEE. 


“Oh, father,” she said, pitifu%, “is there nothing real 
on eai’th ? ” 

“ Certainly, my child, and this is real that you see around 
you, the other was the unreal, and yet only unreal in a 
sense. All those noble acts and exalted sentiments which 
so pleased you in the plaj’, and which these people so well 
presented to us, are to be witnessed and heard among the 
common men and women of every-day life, only they are 
not massed before us, so as to attract special attention. 
And some of these people here, who are unbending so thor- 
oughly now their stage-work is over, no doubt in their 
homes are good daughters, or wives, or mothers, husbands, 
brothers, fathers, or citizens. An actor off the stage re- 
sembles a bow which has been kept taut by the string while 
being used. This is the rebound when the string is re- 
laxed.” 

“ But that queen who dicj^seem too lovely for anything, 
why, she appears really coarse and almost vulgar.” 

“ Yet, Elsie, I believe she is a very good woman and the 
mother of a family. However, I do not fear that your pas- 
sion for the stage will do you much harm. This will be a 
life lesson for you. There is, perhaps, no occupation so full 
of temptations and hardships in a certain way as that of an 
actor. It is full of peril, and perhaps the large number who 
prove too- weak to resist the evil influences incidental to it 
is not to be wondered at. The excitement, late suppers, 
consumption of stimulants to urge flagging energies, an 
artificial and unnatural life, generally coupled with the fact 
that the demand for the greatest mental and physical out- 
lay is at that period of the twenty-four hours when the 
nervous system is natui’ally most exhausted, huiTy scores 
to untimely graves. Nothing but the most rigid self-denial 
and discipline can preserve health and vigor under the ex- 
acting demands of an actor’s life. But they are prover- 
bially the most careless and reckless people in existence.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


103 


The young girl, fqr she was only fourteen at the time 
spoken of, never forgot that “behind the scenes,” and it 
led to the habit of looking beneath the surface in connec- 
tion with the facts of life as they came to her. Not that it 
rendered her suspicious, but rather cautious in forming 
definite opinions of persons or things. Yet now deluded by 
her social instincts and by the specious glittering baubles of 
fashionable society, and for a time made giddy by the con- 
stant whirl of gaiety, she forgot to gaze beneath the sur- 
face and blindly floated with the tide. But this was only 
for a brief season, her countiy breeding and the abundant 
outdoor exercise she had always taken gave her endur- 
ance to resist the enervating inroads of dissipation. But, 
although her cheek held its fresh color and her step its 
elasticity, she suddenly found, to her alarm, that she w^as 
fast losing her taste for thinking or solid reading. Her 
mind was constantly filled with the petty nothings and 
butterfly interests of the life aroimd her. She noticed, 
too, that her father, the dearest being to her in the world, 
would look at her occasionally with an anxious, questioning 
gaze, which somehow made her feel culpable, she knew not 
why. Yet he never uttered a syllable of blame. 

One morning, when she came down to the library in the 
handsome house on Madison Avenue, where her uncle lived, 
after a late breakfast, looking and feeling somewhat lan- 
guid, her father looked up from his book, and, after kissing 
her “good-morning,” said pleasantly : “I have just been 
reading something which brought to mind the visit we paid 
to the theatre some years ago. Do you remember it ? 

His remark brought the color to her face, but she an- 
swered brightly : “ Remember it ! indeed I do. It was the 
best lesson of my life.” 

“ I am very glad you have not forgotten it, and what a 
wide application the lesson you then learned has. I feared 
it had escaped your memoiy.” 


104 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Nothing more was said at the time, for some one else 
entered the room seeking her father, but that hint was 
sufficient. Elsie felt it was time she looked beneath the 
surface of the social sea on whose glistening waters she was 
floating so heedlessl3^ She began to investigate and to 
seek for the true meaning — the real soul of this, so fair 
a body externally. 

Alas ! the revelation was even more astounding than that 
which came to her when venturing behind the stage scen- 
ery. Fashionable society, she discovered, was a mask and, 
like all masks, was hollow, a mere thin paste and color, 
paper and paint hiding a very different face beneath. She 
found, just under the gay shimmer on the surface, jealous- 
ies, vanity, slanders, ignoble rivalry in still more ignoble 
causes ; she found heart-burnings, natures calloused and 
seared by dissipation, empty minds and dwarfed souls 
shrouded in languid, nerveless bodies. That expressive 
French word blase, for which our language gives no exact 
equivalent, seemed to be written on the foreheads of most 
of the votaries of fashion, men and women that she knew. 

Of course, the e\il effects were more pronounced and de- 
plorable among her own sex, as, mth the exception of the 
gauzy-winged fops, and the class of merely idle pleasure- 
seekers, aimless beings who floated on the summer clouds 
of youth, pecuniary ease, and rose-tinted leisure, the men, 
whose wives, daughters, and sisters really constituted the 
major part of the social whirl, were compelled by business 
responsibilities, ambition, and a score of other influences 
which they could not escape, to stand aloof largely from 
this destructive and unnatural life. In short, the young 
country girl found, after careful scrutiny — behind the 
scenes — that fashionable life was a delusion and a snare. 

She recoiled as from the brink of a precipice on which 
she had unwittingly been walking, and shuddered to think 
of the escaped danger. “Is it possible that I could ever 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


105 


become like one of these pale-complexioned, cosmetic- 
tinted, haimless, meaningless, languid beauties, who have 
no more idea of the real meaning, responsibilities, and 
gi’and possibilities of life than one of the veiled inmates 
of an Oriental harem has of the free, independent individ- 
uality of an American or an English lady.” 

Mr. Hastings remarked to a friend about this time 
who urged that his daughter was too ascetic in her tastes 
in so often refusing invitations to the gay life which she so 
adorned, “Elsie has awakened from her dream, and, with- 
out any help from me, come to the conclusion that the pur- 
suit of pleasure in fashionable society inevitably leads to 
physical, mental, and spiritual bankruptcy ; and being at 
present solvent in these respects, she wisely decides to re- 
main so.” 

So, with the exception of a few days, occasionally, on a 
visit to the St. Johns or her aunt’s, her fashionable life 
practically ended at the time referred to. 


CHAPTEK XI. 


A WARM EXPERIENCE. 

London, February 19, 18 — . 

My Dear Cousin Elsie : It is certainly time for a letter to your 
sweet self, as my last was to tlie mucli-respected parental relative of 
tbe aforesaid sweet self, and uncle to the present unworthy writer. 
Well, coz, I m coming home. There, now, is an announcement for 
you calculated to make your pulse beat at least a fifth faster than 
usual. 

“ Conceited and vain ! ’’ Oh no. Such qualities find no lodgment in 
this bosom. Of course, your cheek flushes with pleasure, or (?) at 
this very moment, and the pulse-beat is at least 85 ; normal, about G8. 
I don’t blame you. It is neither your misfortune nor your fault to re- 
joice that a strong, faithful, and very devoted cousin is coming to ad- 
vise, guide, and generally take care of you for a few days. 

“ When ? ” ah ! there’s the rub. Well, inquisitive one, know that 
your medical relative expects to sail for the land of Washington, and 
Franklin, and Brigham Young, about April the primus. 

“What have I been doing with myself abroad ? ’’ Oh, no, you 
wouldn’t say abroad, that is the Hinglish term. Let me see, you 
would say, in proper Yankee phrase, “ Yurrup.” You’re not a Yan- 
kee ; perhaps not, but you’re an American, and that’s just as bad ; we 
make no distinction here. Well, to answer your question, I have 
been visiting the ho.spitals and working hard generally. 

“ What about the Thompsons ? ” Indeed, I could tell jmu a good 
deal about them, but must defer until we meet. I mentioned my 
little adventure with the tramps in a former letter to uncle. You 
should have seen me handle the stick, and Miss Thompson handle 
the stones and mud. You know, you always made fun of my devo- 
tion to the manly art of self-defence, but you would have modified 
your opinion and modified your strictures, too, had you seen that 
fight. I laugh now when I think of the amazed and enraged ex. 


107 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 

pression of that big rascal’s face when he first felt the clay and stones 
rained upon his visage. Keeping one eye for me, he tried to glare 
at the new enemy with the other, and when a well-directed shot from 
Miss Thompson's hand closed one optic, and my shillaleh descended 
upon his confused pate at the same time, the yell of bafiled fury was 
almost worthy of Lucifer (as per John Milton). Miss Thompson is the 
only woman, I believe, in the wide world who can throw straight. 

So, miss, you have been having an adventure too, hiding away 
from your father for three weeks, and then refusing to tell anybody 
anything. I know what it means. You are only waiting for a cer- 
tain beloved cousin to return from England, to make a full, free, and 
frank confession. That is right ! Don’t you tell them anything 
about it, Coz. It is merely idle curiosity on their part, which ought 
not to be gratified. What a delightful talk you and I will have about 
it in the early days of May, or before. If you find, of course, that 
you cannot . keep the secret until my arrival, why you must write it 
to me in full, and I will help you take care of it. Two strong healthy 
people like you and I ought to be able to keep one secret, even if, 
as I suppose, it is a pretty big one. 

Now for the bonne bouche of my welcome epistle. Don’t start so 
with that resentful gesture, you came near making me blot the fair, 
white page. You will say it is doubly welcome when I tell you. 
But come to think, I ought to “ swap,” that’s not a slang term is it ? 
Ought to trade, then, if you are so particular with a fellow — and your 
first cousin, too — ought to swap, or trade, or exchange, my secret for 
yours. How would that do ? But no, I will be magnanimous, and 
not bind you to make any return, but leave that to the eternal prin- 
ciple of justice within you. Now listen, as the children say, let a 
pin drop so that I’ll know everything is quiet while I tell you. 
What do you t’nink ? Oh, you're getting impatient, and say you don’t 
want to hear. Really I’ve half a notion to keep it for my next letter, 
but no, I’m too kind hearted to* punish you so severely. So here 
goes. Mr. Thompson and his two daughters are— are going to take a 
trip to U. S., and perhaps spend the summer there, and further, per- 
haps, may go in the same vessel with your honored cousin. 

Don’t you owe me something now ? Yes, and I’ll claim it when 
we meet. They are charming girls ; the eldest just after your own 
heart, and I know you will be fast friends. Love to uncle, and a re- 
fined and elegant elixir of the same article for my cousin Elsie. 

Yours in exile, 

Warren Seaman. 


108 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Father, just read this letter from Warren, you will enjoy 
it better by reading it all through to yourself, and it has 
some news in it, too. He does love to tantalize.” 

“I must say the young man has quite distinguished him- 
self in that letter,” said her father, after reading it. “I 
suspect Warren is pretty deeply impressed by these charm- 
ing English girls, for he is not wont to indulge in much 
sentimentalism. I am truly glad they are coming. I met 
the father ten years ago, but do not remember much about 
the girls.” 

“ I think they must have been at school at that time, 
father. Well, it will be good to have Cousin WaiTen with 
us again. I do wonder where he purposes making a new 
settlement ? ” 

' “I have been thinking of that lately, and considerable 
inquiry has convinced me that he could not do better than 
open an office in Melville.” 

“ What ! so near to us ? That would be delightful. But 
is there a good opening ? There are, at least, eleven physi- 
cians now.” 

“ Very true, but how many really good ones ? Dr. Rogers 
is intemperate, and his once large practice is fast leaving 
him. Smith never has had the confidence of the people, 
owing to his unsteady habits. Dr. Skyler is too old, and 
never ventm’es out at night or in stormy weather. Then 
Drs. Armstrong and Canby are a firm of medical adventur- 
ers of- the quack class, who are not likely to remain long.” 

“ That leaves six, and, papa, I am afraid young Dr. Peet 
is intemperate, too, for Mrs. Wood said he was rmder the 
influence of liquor when he came to see her baby last week. 
She was afraid to give it the medicine he left, and asked me 
to advise her about it. I just told her to throw the medi- 
cine away, and give the baby a warm bath.” 

“Very sapient; advice, no doubt, quite safe anyway ; but 
I am soiTy to hear that about Peet. How can a medical 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


109 


man be such a fool as to touch stimulants ? No physician 
who is not totally abstemious in that respect should be al- 
lowed to enter a family. I would not trust any medical 
man who touches liquor to prescribe for a cat of mine, much 
less one of my family.” 

“ Cousin Seaman will only have five competitors, and with 
his abihty he ought to be able to take the lead after a 
while,” remarked Elsie, gleefully. “ Shall I tell him about 
it when I write ? ” 

“I would not enter into particulars, but just hint that I 
thought there might be a good opening here, which he had 
better investigate before looking any further. But what 
about the lecture to-night, I have procured tickets, thinking 
you might care to hear it ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, but I had almost forgotten it. What is 
the subject?” 

“‘Kome audits Environs,’ illustrated by dissolving 
views. The lecturer’s name is not familiar to me, but I 
see he is highly endorsed by the city journals.” 

At 8 p.M. the lecture rooifi of the Town Hall was com- 
fortably filled, and the oxyhydrogen apparatus in the cen- 
tre of the room was smiling a faint circle on the great 
white sheet stretched at the back of the platform. 

The lecturer being formally introduced, seemingly a most 
absurd and unnecessary performance, but demanded by cus- 
tom, began by graphically sketching the history of the “ Mis- 
tress of the World ” in outline from the mud walls erected 
by the wolf-fed brothers, to the unrivalled magnificence of 
its summit power when it gave laws to the world. Thence 
to its decadence and gradual transition from a vast politi- 
cal to an equally great religious capital. “We will now 
look at the Kome of the past, and by gradual approach 
come to the Rome of the present.” At a signal the lights 
were lowered until the room looked dark and sombre in 
contrast to the platform, where on the white surface now 


110 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


glowed n,n intensely bright circular disk, in response to the 
fiery torrid eye of the instrument 

The views were very fine and well thrown upon the 
screen,, also the running lectui’e of commentary was direct 
and to the j)oint The speaker had spent months in the 
Eternal City, and had drank in inspirations on the spot 
which remained wdth him and gave vitality to his rapid 
descriptions. Elsie was delighted, for she was ardently 
fond of history and geography. Her father, too, pronounced 
it a superior entertainment of the kind. 

About half the lecture was over, and a remarkably fine 
view of the Coliseum w^as on the sheet, when someone in 
the rear of the hall suddenly shouted “ fire ! ” The cry 
Avas repeated by a hundred voices, and at once the entire 
audience w^as on its feet in a wild whirl of confused strug- 
gling for the aisles and doors. The lecture-room was on 
the second floor of the building and was entered by tw^o 
pretty narrow staircases leading from the hall below. The 
darkened state of the room made the scene more terrifying. 
In a second the aisles and doorway were filled by a dense 
WTithing mass of panic-stricken humanity. Elsie and her 
father rose at the first alarm to make for the door, -but a 
voich near them said in a low, clear tone, “Keep youi’ seat 
Miss Hastings, if you join that crowd at the door you wdll 
be crushed.” They obeyed mechanically. 

“Friends, the fire is below us, escape by the door is 
impossible. Keep the doors shut. Tiu*n up the lights, 
those neai', and open the window's.” The loud, full im- 
perative tones rang clearly above the din and uproai*, and 
some paused in their wild efforts, and presently a light 
here and there began to appear. “ Throw up the lower 
windows, work lively, two men take chai-ge of each. Pass 
the long cushions to the window's. If you do as you are 
told every one can be saved.” So saying, the speaker’s taU 
sinewy figuj-e coiU4 be seen making his way to one of the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Ill 


windows with a long cushion. Stepping on seat backs or 
convenient shoulders as he could, he gained the window. 

“ Pass those cushions to the men at the windows. Now 
cut places in each one for the foot. The men at the win- 
dow hold the cushions outside, they will reach near the 
ground. One at a time now, the ladies first, put your toes 
in the cuts and hold on the sides Avith the hands. 
Steady ! ” 

These rapid instructions -were given and obeyed in less 
time than it takes to describe them. There are always will- 
ing, capable men in eveiy crowd, who will act bravely, skil- 
fully and efficiently, if some one will only lead and direct 
them. As a rule, everywhere workers are many ; capable, 
wise leaders few. The man who had taken charge of pro- 
ceedings was almost an entire stranger, so it was remem- 
bered afterward, but he was obeyed readily. A natural 
leader, he was acknowledged at once, and no one seemed 
inchned to question his authority. 

What the world asks for is help in time of emergency, 
and it wdllingly obeys and honors him who can furnish it. 

The roaring of the flames could now be distinctly heard 
below, and the floor became unbearably hot. The people 
stood on seats awaiting their turn to descend. I said no one 
ventured to dispute the authority of the self-elected leader, 
but exception must be stated. Some rough, selfish bmtes 
forced their way to one of the windows, and putting aside 
the women congregated there and those preparing to de- 
scend, were making their way rapidly into the street. The 
reckless element in the throng took the hint, and a deter- 
mined effort was made to take possession of the w’indows. 

“ This is madness,” shouted the director, “ act like men, 
not base cowards ; no you don’t,” as a big fellow jerked 
aside Elsie, who was about to climb up. 

“Let him go, I can wait,” urged she, wffio w'hen she first 
Jiearcl the voice was cpufidept she detected a familiar ring 


112 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


in it, but failed to connect it with any friend she could 
think of. 

“Not for a moment,” and a hand of iron was laid on the 
intruder’s collar, while the fellow hand dealt him a blow 
under the ear, which hmled him half-unconscious on the 
crowd. “ I will shoot any man that tries to force his way 
past a woman,” drawing a formidable looking revolver as he 
spoke. The weapon, coupled with the determined manner, 
produced the required result, and in a few moments more 
the room was emptied. 

Of course in the rapid descent of some three hundred peo- 
ple even from so small a distance as twenty feet some casual- 
ties might be expected, and several were injured by letting 
go before reaching the ground. The cushions were four- 
teen feet long, so that a person of ordinary height on reach- 
ing the end would be within two or three feet of the 
ground, and ready hands were willing to assist them down, 
but some few dropped on fairly getting outside the win- 
dow. These were nearly all women, as might be expected. 

“ Girl’s ought,” as Mr. Hastings said in reporting the 
incidents of the fire afterward to a friend, “to be taught 
gymnastics at least to the extent of being able to support 
their own weight with their hands, and be able to de- 
scend by a rope, or pole, or board if necessity demands. I 
have Elsie so trained that she can go up or down by her 
hands as well as any boy, and on the night of the fire she 
went down that cushion like a cat.” 

The whole affair of the fire, from the time of its discovery 
until the last person left the building, was barely ten min- 
utes, and owing to the double ceiling and stout ironclad 
doors comparatively little smoke entered the audience 
room. The stairs took fire early and so prevented escape 
that way, and the doorkeeper, finding this, fastened the 
door, and so kept flame and smoke outside, 

A few moments ^fter the escape of the the ei^^ 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


113 


tke building was enveloped in flames, and eventually de- 
stroyed, in spite of all that the rather tardy firemen could do. 

Various were the surmises as to who was the man of re- 
sources w’ho directed, "svlth such energy, promptness, and 
wisdom, the escape of the audience. Somebody said it was 
a Mr. Bartram, Avho occasionally, appeared in town, but was 
not familiarly known there. 

“ I would like much to have shaken hands with that 
man, and thanked him for his coolness and courage. No 
doubt it saved several lives, and many more from the injur- 
ies which always ensue from a panic in an audience.” 

“ How fortunate, pa, that the building was free on both 
sides, and standing by itself. I thought,” Elsie said, after a 
momentary pause, as if searching her memory ; “ that I knew 
the gentleman, and he mentioned my name.” 

“ He is certainly not one of your city friends, I should 
think,” said her father, smiling ; “ for his manners were 
hardly what would be called polished.” 

“ He reminds me more than anybody else of the stranger 
who helped catch Gyp, when I went to the table-rock that 
day last month ; but no, they looked different. Yet the 
voices are something ahke.” 

“ No more romances, young lady, with pecuhar strangers. 
I hope you have had enough for one season.” 

Elsie colored involrmtarily, but answered in the same vein : 

“ I am afraid, my good sir, papa is fearful of some fine- 
looking monster running off with his daughter. Never fear, 
the right fellow hasn’t come thus far.” 

“ And will not for a long while, I hope. I cannot spare 
my housekeeper yet.” 

His daughter responded by kissing himiondly, and then 
catching sight of some one coming up the avenue, ran to 
the window. 

“ Oh, father, here’s Hiram and bis wife. They do look 
so comical together,” 

8 


114 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Perhaps a more remarkable looking pair never agreed to 
travel in matrimonial double harness down the hill of life, 
for they had both arrived at the top of the hill before, 
“ jining in the bonds of mattermoony,” as Hiram phrased it. 
The “ Giraffe ” stalked along in a sort of “ pay by instal- 
ments ” fashion, for as his Tvonelrous length of limb could not 
by any possibility accommodate itself to a short step, he com- 
promised the, to him, very puzzling matter by taking an 
enormous stride and then pausing for the little fat pudgy 
woman to waddle up to him. He looked at a little dis- 
tance as if measuring and staking off the length of the 
road, and waiting at each stake set for the rear chain 
bearer to come up to 'him. Gretchen was a widow when 
he married her, with one child, a boy, now grown to man- 
hood, and of whom she was very proud indeed. Nothing 
pleased the whole-souled, good-natured Dutch woman so 
much as for Miss Hastings to inquire particularly after the 
■welfare of Hans. 

“ Why, Hiram, I really began to be afraid you had for- 
gotten us, or that some wild animal had got the best of 
you at last. And Gretchen, too ! Elsie will be so glad to 
see you, she wants you to show her how to make some 
German dish, I’ve forgotten what it is.” 

“Wall, friend Alf, I reckon I’m too many for the moun- 
tain critters yet, them varmin are mighty skeery "when 
Jim squeeks. Hev been pooty busy of late, that’s sartin. 
I kind o’ hungered to see yer and Miss Elsie here, an’ the 
old woman, says she ‘ lets a go to Meester Hastins this af- 
ternoon.’ Capn, I tell yer it was kinder tough a gittin on 
her here,” and here Hiram dropped his voice confidentially 
toward the gentleman, “ I’m sorter dazed and tired like, 
resting so kinder much along the trail.” 

Elsie, who had been listening to the husband while seem- 
ingly occupied. in talking to the wife, turned toward him 
with a cheery laugh, Hiram, I uever thought you would 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


115 


treat your wife so, such a good wife too, as I know Gretchen 
is, making her walk all this distance ; why you ought to have 
carried her.” 

“ Curried her, curried Gretchen ! jewwhatiker ! ” This 
was the nearest approach to an oath that Hiram ever in- 
dulged in. “ Why Miss Elsie, Gretchen way up there, and 
I way down here,” and the “ Giraffe ” acted in pantomime 
with his hands ; “ whew ! pears to me Gretchen’d feel kinder 
dizzy, an folks’d think we was a cirkus, sure.” 

“ Go long mit you, great big sky scraper, make fun of 
you wife. Ven j^ou vas home mit me, you vas so goot cause 
you vant goot supper, go long mit you already,” and here 
the jolly woman shook her fat fist at her elongated spouse. 

It was always great amusement for the inmates of The 
Hermitage to have a visit from this couple. Both good na- 
tured to a fault, and yet so different in ever}" possible way. 
However, Elsie, thinkieg Hiram might have something to say 
to her father particularly, began talking in an undertone 
to Gretchen, “ And how is Hans, Gretchen, I heard he was 
home?” 

“ Miss Elsie,” said the fond mother smiling all over, “ ain’t 
dot a fine boy ? Ven he vas twenty-von yahres old, dot vas 
last Tuesday, he comes to me, as I vas his mudder, und say, 

‘ mudder, I vant ter see der world yet.’ He is a fine feller 
mit straight legs.” 

Elsie laughed heartily at this. ‘‘ Go on Gretchen, Hans is 
a fine looking young man, we all know.” 

“ Veil den I say to him, ‘ Hans, you vas now twenty-one 
yahre old, an your old mudder vill give you one present for 
your birthday. You go to the Schneider in Melville and let 
yourself made a fine schwallo tail sute, und den you go to de 
hat macher und buy one fine hat.’ Dot sute und hat cost me 
more as forty dollars mit a white nectye und a pair of boots.” 
Here the good woman paused, quite red in the face with 
the ejcertion pf talking. 


116 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Why, how nice that was of you, such a useful birthday 
present too,” said her hearer, greatly amused at her voluble 
description. 

“Och! but I vas to plame, too. I say, now mein boy 
Hans, you see vot your mudder done for you. You make 
dot sute on, und go nach Millville und show you Aunt and 
dose Dutchmans there, vot a fine son Gretchen has got.” 

“Hans must have looked very fine, indeed, with that new 
suit on,” smilingly remarked Elsie, who knew Hans to be as 
good-natured lazy fellow, rather too fond of beer. 

Ya, ya,” laughed the pleased mother, “Hans is a fine fel- 
ler, but he treat too much.” 

Elsie now noticed that Hiram was making grotesque 
signs that he wanted to speak to her. Carefully watching 
Mr. Hastings, he would take advantage of any momentary 
inattention, to distort his visage and signify by marvellous 
jerks of his head that the visit was for her and not for her 
father. It at once occurred to her that he had some mes- 
sage from her cave friends, from whom she had not heard 
directly or indirectly since parting from them. 

“ Father, Gretchen wants to explain to you about Hans’ 
little trouble in the village the other night, and Hiram will 
come and show me how to fix a place that Zoe can’t jump 
out of. You know you promised to come and fix it for me 
ever so long ago, Hiram.” 

Hiram rose with alacrity, his face showing how gratified 
he was, both at her remark and also at the opportunity her 
tact afforded him to deliver his message, or make his com- 
munication, whatever it might be. Zoe was a fawn, a few 
months old, which Hiram had captured and presented to 
Elsie, and which had developed a jumping power which 
nothing in the fence way had hitherto been adequate to 
restrain. Elsie knew that Gretchen had come with Hiram 
much against his will, for he rarely brought her, if he 
wished to transact any business for himself. Gretohen’s 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


117 


object, she surmised, was to ask Mr. Hastings to take Hans 
into his employment ; and as the young German had become 
intoxicated in the village on his birthday, and had suffered 
temporary detention by the justice, in consequence, this 
was what his mother meant when she said he treated too 
much. 

Hiram lost no time in revealing the cause of his eager- 
ness for an interview. He immediately, with many watch- 
ful glances around, with the small ferret-like, but wonder- 
fully keen eyes, produced a letter from one of the immense 
deerskin depositaries which he termed his haversacks. 

“ The old one sent yer this. Miss Elsie, and told me to 
guve it inter yer own two hands ; an Hiram’s jest the boy 
ter do it.” 

So saying, he put the folded paper into her outstretched 
hand, which he imprisoned in his mighty palm, until he 
brought her other hand and placed it on the top of the 
letter ; then, holding both her small hands with the letter 
between them in the depths of his own, completely hiding 
them from view, letter and aU, he stood for an instant in- 
tently regarding her, ^nd then laughing softly to himself. 

‘‘ Guess ’ve done it cordin’ to ther old one’s directions, 
guess that’s right. Naow, Miss Elsie, read that are an’ tell 
me what yer think.” 

So saying the captives were allowed to emerge from the 
darkness of their fleshly dungeon with the white messenger 
between them. 

Elsie eagerly opened the letter and read : 

“My Dear Child : This will he put in your hands by the ever 
faithful Hiram. We have mourned much at your absence. Nadia 
is sad, and Sophia sheds tears at your leaving. We so wish you to 
come and see us. Trust Hiram, he will arrange all. The harsh 
winter hindered our sending to you before this. Hiram will guide 
you all right. Your father and doctor gives his blessing. 

The Exile.” 


118 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


EJsie looked up inquiringly at the countenance which 
she knew was watching her every motion. There was a 
mere suspicion of a smile on the rugged face, but he was 
evidently waiting for her to speak. 

“ You know what is in this, Hiram. When shall we go ? ” 

The trapper smiled one of his wonted facial giimaces 
and answered, softly. 

“Tell me the writing ; durn me ef Hiram hisself kin fix it.” 

Elsie recollected that the honest fellow could not read 
written characters, although he was a fair reader of print, 
but, the letter being unsealed, she naturally supposed he 
was acquainted with the contents. She read the note to 
him, and was much gratified in witnessing his satisfaction 
at the way in which he was alluded to in it. 

“ To-morrow ? ” he said, interrogatively. 

“Y’es,” she responded, brightly. “I can easily go to- 
mon’ow. What time ? ” 

“ The old one, said he, ‘ Hiram, bring Miss Elsie soon’s 
you can,’ an I jest telled him ‘ durn my butes ef I don’t.’ ” 

“ Well then, Hiram, I will be ready at ten o’clock. Shall 
we ride or walk ? How far is it ? ” 

“ Mebbe we’d better foot it, ’tain’t far, leastways for folks 
as yerself.” 

Hiram was very proud of Elsie’s walking ability, prob- 
ably because she was in this such a contrast to other women, 
especially his wife, whose locomotive powers he held in 
unlimited contempt. 

The trapper fidgetted around nervously, as if he had still 
something on his mind, which his companion perceiving, 
said, encouragingly : 

“ You want to tell me something else ; speak out plainly.” 

“ Wall, Miss Elsie, I du feel kinder put aeout. Twist 
his neck but it’s sorter wrong. Blamed ef it ain’t.” 

“ Just you tell me and then Pll decide whether it is 
wrong or not, Hiram.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


119 


Again those movements and that stride up and down the 
yard, where they had been talking in the warm sunshine 
of the early spring. Finally he paused in front of her and, 
looking off into the distance, blurted out : 

“ Durn my buttons, but the old one said, ‘Hiram, tell 
Miss Elsie from me,’ thet’s the old one’s self mind ye. Miss 
Elsie ; says he, ‘ it may be best to blind yer eyes fur a bit 
afore going in ’ — der yer see ? ” 

The poor fellow seemed so utterly distressed at having 
to even hint such a thing to her, that she hastened to re- 
lieve him by saying : 

“ Of course, Hiram, if the doctor wishes, I don’t mind 
one bit.” 

“Wall yer know,” the trapper quickly added, much re- 
lieved at the little annoyance she manifested, “ the old 
one, said he, ‘ ’twill save Miss Elsie from heving to answer 
onpleasant questions, cause she kin say she don’t know, ef 
she don’t.’ ” 

So it was all settled, and the fawn being duly inspected, 
and suggestions given and received concerning its future 
restraint, the two friends — for such in a very real sense they 
were, if affection on one side, and a thorough, respect for 
courage and incorruptible manhood on the other, can con- 
stitute a basis for friendship — returned to the room where 
they had left Mr. Hastings and Gretchen. The latter 
seemed in high spirits, for Mr. Hastings had agreed to take 
Hans into his employ, on condition that he agree to leave 
his wages in ]Mi\ Hastings’ hands to be banked for him, 
clothing and necessaries being bought for him when needed ; 
“ but he can have no money until such time as I consider 
that he is ciued of this abominable bar-drinking habit.” 

“Danke Meester Hastings. Hans must do it already. 
Ach I vas to plame. Mein boy is a fine feller, only he treat 
too much. Ya, ya, he treat too much yet.” 


CHAPTEK Xn. 


SUBTERRANEAN HISTORY. 

Before departing, Hiram had arranged to meet Elsie at a 
certain unfrequented spot about a mile from the Hermitage. 
She did not inform her father, for he had left her free to 
act as she saw fit in reference to this matter. Early the 
next morning she was selecting and putting in shape some 
little presents •which she had procured for her friends of 
the cave weeks before, in anticipation of this visit. Then 
she took a brisk walk in the bright spring air, for March 
was almost gone, and winter had gracefully yielded to the 
more genial season. Of course, it was to be expected 
that the grim w'hite frosted old veteran would occasionally 
return during the coming few weeks, in order to note how 
his fair-haired son, with the rosy cheeks and sunny smile, 
was behaving himself, before he surrendered matters to 
him entirely ; but he had not shown his face for several days. 

“ Wall, du tell, Miss Elsie, yer tripped along so kinder 
light and quick that I sorter thought’d mought be a rabbit 
or fawn, and put up squeaking Jim here,” patting his gun 
affectionately, “ ready like, yer see.” 

“ Why, Hiram, you don’t mean to say you would have 
shot me for a rabbit. I think I had better wear a bell 
round my neck so as to -w^arn you of my coming, another 
time.” 

“No — no, Miss Elsie, Hiram niver shoots tall he sees 
what kind o’ game is er going to drop.” 

“ Well, then, I hope you’ll always take a good look before 
you point squeaking Jim in my direction.” 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


121 


“ Miss Elsie, ef squeaking Jim iver points at any critter 
thet critter’s gone shure.” 

It was no idle boast, for the hunter was considered the 
best shot around. His strength of hands and extraordi- 
nary eyesight gave him almost unrivalled skill as a marks- 
man. Hiram proposed to walk on ahead so ^as not to 
attract notice to them, in case they should meet any travel- 
lers, Elsie to saunter leisurely after until she observed him 
halt, as a sign to her to stay at that point on reaching it, 
until further directions. The country was quite familiar 
to her — she had been over the same part frequently, al- 
though it was out of the line of ordinary travel. 

‘‘I wonder where the entrance to that cave is ; strange 
that it has not been discovered by some of the long-time 
dwellers here ? ” she said to herself. After keeping the 
tall form of the trapper in sight for about a mile, she saw 
him suddenly pause for an instant, raise his right arm, 
and then vanish from her sight. So sudden and totally 
unexpected was his disappearance, that the young lady 
was startled ; but, recovering herself in a second, she started 
briskly forward toward the spot, laughing heartily to her- 
self at the celerity with wliich the guide’s tall figure had 
been hidden from view. Beaching the place she peered 
around in search of any opening or chasm or hollow where 
Hiram might be hidden, but in vain. No living thing was 
in sight — she seemed to stand alone upon a little mound 
which gave a pretty fair range of view for several rods 
round her. There were clumps of stunted bushes here 
and there, and she not unnaturally supposed the trapper 
might have glided along the ground to one of these, and 
she knew he was agile enough for anything. She stood 
viewing the landscape, and trying to identify different dis- 
tant points so as to get her bearings, when, in turning 
finally, in the direction from which she had come, she saw 
the trapper’s tall person between her and the horizon. 


122 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


His uprising was as surprising and unexpected as his 
down going, but here he was close to her, advancing with 
something else than squeaking Jim in his hand this time. 
It looked like a flag, and he carried it as an enemy might 
bring a flag of truce to the commander of the opposite 
forces. Only a silk handkerchief of some/foreign pattern 
the supposed flag proved to be, and this, Hiram, with many 
apologies, asked that she, would bind over her eyes, before 
they proceeded any further. He seemed to be devouring 
some internal chagrin at having to ask such a thing. Elsie 
cheerfully did as requested. 

“It will be like playing at blind man’s buff again, Hiram. 
There, I am as blind as a bat, and you will have to lead me.” 

“ Miss Elsie,” said the trapper, solemnly, “ I’d ruther’d 
lost squeaking Jim than ter hev to fix yer in this sorter style, 
blamed ef er wouldn’t.” 

■Whereupon Hiram lightly touched her arm, saying, hus- 
kily, “you’ll exquize Hiram, but mebbe if I tooken yer 
hand I kin sorter show yer the way easy like.” 

“ Just the thing, Hiram,” Elsie promptly answered, sym- 
pathizing with the poor fellow’s vexation at being a party 
to what he considered an unpardonable imposition upon 
the young woman. “ You know w^e walked many a long 
mile when I was a little girl this way. You don’t forget 
the long trips we used to take together ? ” 

“ Sh’d think er did member’ em. True’s preachin’. Miss 
Elsie, yer w^as a streak er sunshine in Hiram’s old life, liv- 
ing alone an hunting critters.” 

“ That was before you met Gretchen,” said his compan- 
ion ; “ she makes sunshine for you now ? ” 

“ Gretchen, wall mebbe she does,” repeated he, slowly, 
and as she thought, somewhat doubtfully. “ Mebbe she 
does, but ’cksionally the sun pears to hev forgot to riz, or 
cloudy or suthin’ ; yaas Gretchen’s sunshine’s pooty good 
when it’s not streaked with thunner an lightning.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 123 

Hiram here paused in their rapid walk, which had 
been taxing Elsie’s breathing capacity to the utmost, al- 
though he thought how nicely he had succeeded in mov- 
ing forward, as he expressed it afterward to Gretchen, 
“ suthin’ like er snail, jest to soot her.” Saying softly, 
“ Yer’ll not be scared,” he whistled a few notes so marvel- 
lously like the whippoorwill that his companion was start- 
led at finding the bird so close to her, and then laughed 
at her own mistake, remembering how he used in other 
years to delight her childhood by his wonderful mimicry 
of the different cries of the denizens of the wilds and woods, 
the “ folks in fur an feathers,” as he termed them. 

“ Mind yer foots. Miss Elsie, we’re kind er goin’ down 
hill here.” She followed his lead with perfect confidence, 
conscious that they had left the daylight and "were prob- 
ably underground. Presently she heard him strike a light 
and could half distinguish the fla^i of it through the folds 
of the silk. The world changes w^hen we cover the sight. 
The other senses are sharpened immediately, and the 
whole inner life seems pressing to the surface, asking, as it 
were, to be enlisted in the service to substitute the lost 
vision. Peerless sense of sight, what can atone for thy ab- 
sence? Nothing on earth. How tenderly and helpfully 
we should feel toward those who walk the sun-lit earth, 
shrouded in night — seen, but alas ! unseeing ! After about 
ten minutes’ almost silent travelling in what the chilly, 
damp atmosphere lionvinced her was a subterranean pas- 
sage, her guide, who had only spoken a cheering word now 
and then, suddenly stopped and exclaimed joyfully : 

“ Here we be. Miss Elsie ; durned ef I bain’t thundering 
glad too, so’ser put that pesky thing off yer eyes.” 

So saying her faithful pioneer carefully untied the knot 
and restored her vision. Somewhat blinded at first by the 
light, dim as it was, she stood a moment to recover her 
balance and then opened her eyes widely to find the old 


124 


THE KUSSIAN UEEUGEE. 


familiar room and objects which had, during those few 
weeks of her cave life, become so dear to her. 

“ Slava Bogu ” saluted her ears, and a small form com- 
ing swiftly out of the shadows seized her hands and kissed 
them eagerly, first one, and then the other. Taking 
Sophia in her arms the visitor kissed her fondly, and 
‘‘ Slava Bogu,” said another well remembered voice, as she 
turned to be warmly greeted by Nadia. All the English 
expressions which these two had learned from her were 
speedily brought into practice, and indeed she found that 
the girl had added considerably to her stock and could 
hold quite a conversation. As far as possible, considering 
the verbal limitation, questions were asked and answered, 
and the two Eussians were made happy by the presents 
which were brought for them. A handsome necklace and 
warm, pretty shawl for the young maiden, and a small gold 
watch with her name engraved on it for the mother. Elsie 
felt that she would not dare to offer direct remuneration to 
the C£fve Patriarch, for on hinting such a thing while un- 
der his care, his brow had darkened and he informed her 
that to his race the laws of hospitality were sacred, so she 
adopted this plan of showing in some degree her gratitude. 
Hiram had disappeared on the entrance of the others, with- 
out even waiting for her to recover clear vision. But 
another was soon added to the group, and the friendly 
hand of the Exile clasped hers, and his paternal kiss on 
the forehead with the words “welcomfe my daughter” 
made her feel thoroughly at home. She looked at him 
earnestly. With that rare grace of manner and dignity of 
demeanor she thought he was indeed the finest example of 
majestic age she had ever beheld. The mild features, 
wreathed by the snowy hair and beard, seemed on this oc- 
casion unusually benignant. And the voice so full and 
mellow had little of the tremulousness of very advanced 
life. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


125 


“ We have been pained at your lengthened absence, my 
dear child, but we knew of your welfare.” 

“Oh, I have thought of you all ever so often,” returned 
Elsie, warmly, “ and I am so glad to be with you again.” 

“ Hiram brought you quite safely. He is a faithful fel- 
low and much attached to you and your father.” 

“ One of the best men in the world. He has known me 
ever since I was three years old. Yes, he took every care 
of me, even to blinding my eyes,” she said, smiling. 

They all laughed at this, even Sophia and her mother 
seeming to comprehend the point. Nadia soon left, but 
Sophia seemed as if she must hold on to the newly recov- 
ered treasure, and held her hand fast, sitting by her side. 

“ I should have asked you, my child, to visit us before 
this, but it was difficult during the severe winter to reach 
here without hardship, and also another reason which I 
will explain.” 

At a sign from him the little maiden rose reluctantly to 
leave the apartment, but she cast back such yearning, tear- 
ful looks at Elsie, who also looked distressed, that the old 
gentleman relented, and at a word from him in Kussian 
she eagerly resumed her former position by her friend’s 
side. 

“ Sophia knows so little English, and as our conversation 
must be in that tongue, her presence will not matter.” 

Sophia was so dehghted at the favor that she rose, and 
passing to his side took his hand reverently in both hers, 
pressed her hps to it fervently, and then resumed her 
seat. 

“ I have for some time wished an opportunity to explain 
to you, my daughter, much that may have sui-prised and 
perhaps vexed you. I refer to the concealment, the mys- 
tery, which seemed to characterize our dealings with you. 
Why should we live in a cave apart from the outside world ? 
Why be averse to answer questions ? Why refuse to per 


126 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


mit your friends to visit you, or even know your location 
during your residence here ? Why ask that you consent to 
be blindfolded while being led to this place ? These and 
many other questions must have often occurred to you, 
both during your stay with us and also since. I am pain- 
fully aware that our conduct, especially in the last two in- 
stances, must have appeared suspicious, unreasonable, and 
even cruel.” 

He paused for a moment, and his hearer at once ex- 
claimed earnestly, “ Oh, no, no, not cruel. I may have 
thought these things were peculiar and. strange, but never 
unkind or cruel for a moment. You could not be that.” 

“ Thank you, my dear, for your confidence in us, and to- 
day I purpose showing you that your trust is not mis- 
placed. We do live peculiarly and unlike other people, but 
there are abundant reasons for it. I told you I was an 
exile. I am more. I am also a refugee ! ” 

She started, which he, observing her keenly, noticed at 
once, and repeated a trifle bitterly, “ Yes, a refugee from 
justice, that is,” he added, seeing her look of distress, 
“ Russian justice, which in any other country on the globe 
would mean injustice, despotism, tyranny.” 

In my youth,” he resumed, after a pause, which she 
did not try to interrupt, so completely did he seem to be 
lost in thought, “ a hot-headed student at college, I joined 
a radical club in St. Petersburg, which had for its object 
the civil and political freedom of our beloved country. The 
members were drawn from the students’ ranks principally, 
and it numbered in its fold some of the best and bravest 
blood Russia could boast. We were reckless and inexperi- 
enced, and owing, I must confess, largely to our own indis- 
cretion, we finally became objects of attention to the 
police. To be once suspected in Russia is to be con- 
demned in advance, and all that the authorities then desire 
is an opportunity to bring the victim to trial, in order 


THE EUSSIAIS" REFUGEE. 


127 


that by a legal farce they may be able to formally indorse 
the sentence long before passed on the accused. But with 
the vast majority of suspected political offenders in my 
country, this trial, farcical as it is, is not public, for the 
citizens at large are assumed to have no interest or rights 
in the matter. It concerns the government alone. However, 
to lessen the fatigue of listening, let me hasten to explain 
my own connection with the ‘ Scarlet Circle,’ the name 
of our society. Each member was obliged to take a most 
impressive and stringent oath — weighted with penalties from 
mutilation to death, according to the offence — to obey un- 
questioningly all commands of the council whatsoever. 
You will say it was madness to take such an oath, and it 
was, blit we were full of enthusiasm and generous ardor, 
deeply feeling the hideous wrongs under which our 
country was writhing in agony — in short, we were young, 
and when does youth reason ? I said we were indiscreet 
and young, but our enemies were old, crafty, and as silent 
as the grave, they encouraged indirectly our meetings and 
inflammatory utterances, gradually weaving around us the 
meshes of one of the most astute and wide-reaching systems 
of surveillance that exists on earth, not even excepting that 
in Paris. The end might easily have been foreseen. It 
was the old story of the moths and the candle. One night 
the police swooped upon us, as an eagle on its prey, and 
with the exception of some five or six, who by sheer 
strength and some favoring opportunity from the confu- 
sion and darkness, captured the entire society. It was a 
special meeting called to consider a measure which we had 
long contemplated, but now proposed to take measures to 
carry out. Not a man was absent, and the success of the 
authorities was complete, with the few exceptions men- 
tioned, of which I happened to be one. I weary you with 
this long story, in which naturally your young life cannot 
feel much interest.” 


128 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“No, indeed, I am intensely interested and curious to 
hear the rest,” returned his hstener, whose thoroughly 
absorbed manner and attitude during the recital proved 
the truth of her statement. 

The old man smiled in a way that showed his gratifica- 
tion and at once proceeded with the history. “ How we 
managed to hide ourselves from the persistent and relent- 
less agents of the government is not pertinent to my story 
to relate, at least not at present. It taught the St. Peters- 
burg poHce and the Czar’s army of spies and secret 
agents that they were not omnipotent, for they were com- 
pletely foiled. Of those arrested, after the usual travesty 
of justice behind closed doors, it was publicly announced 
that forty conspirators against the peace of Russia had 
been convicted and sent to Siberia for life. The rest suf- 
fered various terms of imprisonment, so the ‘Scarlet Circle, ’ 
those in power fondly beheved, was destroyed root and 
branch. Unfortunately, on account of the Circle, I had a 
short time previously been brought specially under the 
notice of the police and was now diligently sought for. 
Doubtless every house in the city was entered in the search 
for me and my comrades, but, as I said before, in vain. 
Although every avenue leading from the capital was 
watched by sharp eyes, yet we managed to escape and 
reached other countries. I came to America, very doubt- 
ful if I could ever live, safely in my native country again, 
but yet more determined than ever to work for her en- 
franchisement. It requires opposition to develop the la- 
tent resources of humanity. 

“ In spite of the immensely powerful machinery under 
control of the authorities ‘ Scarlet Circle ’ societies sprang 
up everywhere. Within a year after my leaving Russia 
there was not a town of any importance in that country 
but had a branch of the secret organization, whose symbol 
was the blood-red ring. There were hundreds of political 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


129 


refugees in this country who, like myself, had escaped from 
the tender mercies of the Czar, and sooner or later became 
members of the association. Indeed, they were eager to 
join any body or engage in any work which had for its ul- 
timate object the relief of their Fatherland from the de- 
structive rule of an iniquitous despotism, which regarded 
the people as so many rightless feeders of the rapacious 
imperial house with its army of conscienceless myrmidons. 
On account of my previous experience I was soon elected 
as chief of the ‘Head Circle’ on this continent. We had 
constant communication with each other and with our 
friends in Russia. What occurred in our circle was soon 
known in every other, the world over, for we have members 
wherever Russians live. Finally I was summoned by the 
controlling council to return to Russia and join in their 
deliberations. So very many years, over forty, having 
elapsed, I did not much fear recognition, and yet despotic 
governments never forget. The memory of hate ^is tena- 
cious. I had some misgivings at going and leaving my 
wife and son, for I had long years before met and married 
a native of sunny Italy, and my only child was a boy of 
tender years. But my oath was sacred, and having prom- 
ised obedience, I should have gone even if the danger had 
been very much greater than it really was. I was not recog- 
nized, for comparatively few of my foes who had known me 
in my former experiences were living. I remained some 
months in the metropolis of the empire, and executed sev- 
eral urgent and perilous commissions for the Grand Chief. 
Singularly fortunate in my enterprises, I seemed not even to 
have drawn suspicion on me, when one unlucky night, leav- 
ing the council chamber with credentials and special instruc- 
tions for a provincial council some hundreds of miles away, 
I felt that I was being shadowed. 

“ As I w^as to start for my destination before daylight 
next morning, and should probably be absent several weeks, 
9 


130 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


I felt confident in ultimately outwitting the police, even 
supposing they had recognized me, which was hardly likely, 
if I could elude the foe who was now dogging my footsteps. 
The case to me %vas plain as daylight. I was suspected. 
The government hounds were on my track, and I w^as to be 
run to kennel with abundant evidence on my person to 
send me to Siberia for life. All the horrors of that north- 
ern servitude, separation, worse than by death, from my 
family, now looking for my near arrival home, stared me 
in the face. To go to the Siberian mines would be burial 
alive— a tortured existence, with no hope of escape but by 
death. I resolved at once that I would not be taken. I 
was well armed and I would defend myself to the last. To 
proceed to my lodgings would be fatal, so nothing was left 
but to try and lose my follower in the varied windings 
which one as familiar with St. Petersburg as I was could 
easily make. After a couple of hom*s spent in this attempt, 
but vdthout avail, I knew that matters must speedily be 
brought to a crisis, for my conveyance left for the West at 
two o’clock, and it was now after twelve. On, on, like a 
sleuth hound came that untiring enemy. Now and then I 
caught a glimpse of him, but he was wary, and gave me no 
fair chance to determine his special character, although I 
was satisfied from his bearing that he was a government 
detective and a man, I judged, of about the same age as 
myself. 

« “ ‘ Heaven help him, then,’ I said to myself at length, ‘ he 

must die for the good of Eussia.’ I shrank from taking 
life unnecessarily, not being naturally bloodthirsty, but I 
would not go to Siberia, and at the same time by suffering 
myself to be arrested implicate my associates by the opera- 
tion of circumstances which would then be beyond my 
control, giving a clue to their identity and residence. I at 
once made my way rapidly to some vacant lots in the sub- 
urbs, and not very far from my lodging. Here I decided 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


131 


to conceal myself until the spy came boldly to the front 
and showed his real intention. I soon found shelter be- 
hind an old wall, on one side of a small pai’ade ground, 
which had been deserted for some time. In a few moments 
my relentless pursuer came up and stepping cautiously 
from the shadow into the imperfect moonlight peered 
anxiously about. There was no time to hesitate ; in a mo- 
ment more he ’would see me, so I resolved to take the in- 
itiative, and sprung toward him pistol in hand. 

“‘What do you mean,’ I exclaimed, ‘by following me 
in this way? what do you want with me ? ’ 

“ The man stepped back, seemingly startled by my sud- 
den appearance, but immediately recovered himself and 
covered me with his weapon. 

“ ‘ Outlaw ! ’ he hissed, venomously ; ‘ I know you ; the 
game is up ; surrender on your life ! ’ at the same instant 
throwing open his loose outer garment and displaying his 
badge as a captain of the secret police. At once his identity 
flashed on me, and I remembered him as a man who had 
professed great friendship for me in my early experience 
with the Circle, and after the arrest had shown himself par- 
ticularly zealous in collecting evidence against the captives 
and in instituting rigid search for those of us who escaped. 
Too late we discovered that he was a spy in government 
employ, and so well had he dissembled that he was once 
ballotted on for admission to the order. 

“ Many an oath had I heard registered to take the life of 
the spy Eignault if opportunity ever offered, and here was 
the man now facing me in the moonlight, with a sneer of 
triumph distorting his hateful features. Yes, the recog- 
nition was mutual, although his discovery of my personahty 
had doubtless been made some hours before. I rapidly 
reasoned that he was too eager to capture me and so earn 
* iward and promotion by the arrest of an old offender — 
for there was a standing price upon my head — and so 


132 THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 

would not fire unless as a last resort ; so when he again 
summoned me to surrender, at the same time advancing 
upon me, I rapidly raised my pistol and fired at his head 
point blank. So sudden had been my movement that he 
had not time to anticipate me, although as my bullet en- 
tered his brain his weapon was discharged, but the ball 
failed to touch me. He fell prone, and without pausing 
to examine further I fled the scene, and making my way 
rapidly to my lodging, was within an hour speeding away 
from the city. My passports having been carefully pre- 
pared and signed through the influence of a member of the 
Council, who was related to a prominent official, I had com- 
paratively Httle trouble in reaching my destination. Here 
I executed my commission, and on telling my story it was 
decided that it would be madness for me to remain in the 
Czar’s dominions any longer, and so after one or two narrow 
escapes from capture, I succeeded in reaching this country 
again and was reunited to my family. I soon received in- 
formation from Kussia that Kignault had informed the 
Bureau of Secret Police of my presence in the capital, and 
that plans had been taken to capture me the next day, but 
that he, seeing me leave the Circle rooms, had somehow di- 
vined that the prey was about to escape, by one of those in- 
tuitions which detectives and pohcemen sometimes have, and 
determined to follow me and, if necessary, make the arrest 
himself and so forestall any possible intention on my part. 
When his body was found, it was at once surmised as to 
the author of the tragedy, and search was being instituted 
everywhere. I should probably be traced to America, and 
requisition would be made for me as an escaped mur- 
derer, so I was warned to keep out of sight for a time at 
least.” 

The aged narrator paused, and fixing his piercing glance 
upon the young lady, asked, in a low, impressive tone, 
“ Can you mmwel at my isolation from the world, or the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 133 

mystery and secresy which surrounds and envelops me and 
mine ? ” 

“ Oh, dear, what a wonderful life, what an eventful his- 
tory, but surely you are safe now. All these dreadful 
things happened so long ago, the Eussian Government has 
forgotten, has it not ? ” said Elsie, trembling with emotion 
and interest, for the singular story had impressed her al- 
most beyond expression. 

“No, my child, hot so. Governments never forget. 
Individuals pass away, but governments or dynasties en- 
dure, and their memories are eternal. In my country, if 
I can be said to have a country, political offences are neither 
forgotten nor forgiven. True, I am no longer hunted for, 
as I am naturally supposed to be dead, but should I again 
appear to the world, strange questions would be asked, 
my nationality soon discovered, and some travelling fellow- 
countryman would carry the tale. Besides, I have a cer- 
tain task to do in forwarding this great work going on in 
Europe, and especially in Eussia, looking to the destruction 
of despotisms and the elevation of the oppressed masses.” 

“ But surely, surely, you are not a — oh, it cannot be, I 
will not believe it of one so good and kind,” exclaimed the 
impulsive hearer, clasping her hands together fervently. 

“ Let me say it for you, that dreadful word which your 
gentle lips refuse to utter. My daughter, I see the word 
in your mind — Socialist. That word is not so bad when it 
is spoken, is it?” said the old man, smiling. “Yes, I am 
afraid I am, but not in the sense perhaps that you under- 
stand it. Some time when you come to appreciate the 
full iniquity of our rulers and our hideous wrongs — wrongs 
enough to make the very stones rise in bloody mutiny — 
then you will have a kinder feeling toward the poor So- 
cialists. But let us have some refreshment and then I will 
show you the cave as I promised so long ago.” 

Giving signal by clapping his hands, presently Nadia 


134 


THE RUSSIAN REFINE EE. 


and her daughter appeared bearing the necessary things, 
and soon a substantial lunch was spread upon the snowy 
cloth. 

“Sophia, you must sit by me,” said the young lad}'. 
“ I must see as much of you as I can while here,” to which 
the*young Russian, who had been summoned from the 
room before the patriarch’s story ended, to help her 
mother as Elsie supposed, joyfully assented, but her 
parent, with due regard to the proprieties, urged that they 
should wait on the table, and lunch by themselves after- 
ward. 

“ No, indeed ; please let me have my way for this once,” 
pleaded the guest ; “ let us all dine together and help our- 
selves — it will be much nicer so. ” And, of course, she ear- 
ned her point, and a very joyous little party they were. 

Elsie was delighted to be able to use her Russian again, 
and with the skilful aid of the exile, who, like most of his 
educated countrymen, was an accomplished linguist, she 
succeeded in mastering the pronunciation of some words 
that she had in vain attempted under Sophia’s tutorage. 
But where was the other member of this simple-hearted 
kind family — Adolph — whom she had never seen ? She 
would fain have asked after him, but somehow shrank from 
doing it. The burden of her gi'atitude weighed upon her, 
for she knew that he had been the chief instrument of her 
rescue, and she longed to thank him. She saw signs of 
him everywhere, for most of the ingenious things which 
had attracted her attention and admiration in the room, 
Sophia had informed her, were his work. Indeed, the young 
Muscovite thought there was nobody quite equal to “ Un- 
cle Adolph,” as she called him, for she soon learned to 
substitute the English word uncle for the Russian word of 
the same meaning, which she had first used in speaking of 
him to Elsie. “ Uncle Adolph ” was her hero, and the lit- 
tle maiden rang his praises constantly. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


135 


Elsie founrl the cave much more extensive than she had 
anticipated, and indeed more interesting. There were about 
thirteen chambers or apartments of varying size, and some 
of the lime fonnations — the stalagmites and stalactites — 
were “ gi-andly beautiful,” so the visitor expressed herself. 
The cathedral, as the largest room was named, for each com- 
l^artmeut bore some significant title, was magnificent. It 
had an arched or dome-shaped roof, which glittered like a 
firmament of diamonds ; crystals, icicles, pendants, curious 
and grotesque forms — countless shapes of the sparkling 
material reflected the torchlight in every direction. It 
was to Elsie a very Aladdin’s palace of wonders, and her 
brain was fairly bewildered by the treasures which nature 
had so lavishly scattered on every side — above and below. 

Then there was the waterfall, and the grotto, and the 
council chamber, and the “ Last Supper,” having a singu- 
lar resemblance to the celebrated picture bearing that 
name. The whispering gallery, too, was remarkable in its 
acoustic conditions, rivalling the noted circle in the London 
Cathedral. Altogether Elsie was exceedingly pleased with 
her visit, and sony when the time warned her to prepare 
for the homeward trip so as to reach the Hermitage by 
dark. 

“ Oh, I do wush you could know my father ; I am sure 
you would like him, and I have often heard him express 
the greatest sympathy with the oppressed people in Rus- 
sia. I heard him say once, after reading of the brutal act 
of some official there, that if he lived in Russia he would 
be a Socialist,” said the young lady, clasping the hands of 
her host wannly at parting. 

The old man’s eyes sparkled, and a faint tinge of deep- 
ened color came to his face, as he answered : “ Did he, 
indeed ! then I hope things will so point that we can meet, 
and that very soon. Farewell, my dear daughter, may the 
apgels guard you. AVe shall soon meet again.” 


136 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Hiram now appeared on the scene, as the exile departed, 
and again apologized for binding her eyes. “Really, I 
rather enjoy it, Hiram, and it prevents my seeing the dis- 
malness of this passage,” was her cheerful response. 

The homeward journey was similar to the outward, only 
after parting from her Hiram followed at a moderate dis- 
tance, keeping her in sight until she reached her own gate. 


CHAPTER Xni 


UNWELCOME VISITORS. 

One morning, shortly after Elsie’s visit to the cave, Mr. 
Hastings was summoned to the parlor to meet a stranger. 
A plain, matter-of-fact-looking person, dressed like a me- 
chanic, greeted him on his entrance. 

“ IVIi*. Hastings,” he began at once, before the gentleman 
had time to speak, “ if you will close the dooii and assure 
me that we are away from other ears, I will disclose at once 
the object of my visit.” 

The owner of the premises was rather disconcerted for a 
moment and looked scrutinizingly at his visitor, but seeing 
no cause for suspicion in the calm business-like face and 
manner of the other, promptly, recovered his ordinary self- 
possessed bearing. Closing the door carefully, he said : “ Be 
seated, sir, we are entirely alone ; that is, so far,” he added, 
cautiously, ‘‘as ordinary conversation is concerned.” 

The stranger smiled at the last words, and evidently ap- 
preciated the hint they were intended to convey. 

“ Your suspicions are natural, but will disappear when I 
inform you of the purport of my visit.” 

“Please proceed,” said the host, calmly. “I am await- 
ing your statement.” 

“ I am an Enghsh detective, and am in this country on the 
track of a criminal,” promptly returned the visitor, fixing 
his eyes keenly on the gentleman. “I understand that you 
were robbed a few months since, and have failed as yet to 
obtain any clew to the identity of the burglar. Is that cor- 
rect ? ” 


138 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ It is ; but I fail to see any possible connection between 
your escaped criminal and the attempt on my house.” 

“Be patient,” responded the other, coolly; “I have good 
reason to believe that they are very closely connected.” 

“ Indeed,” said IVIr. Hastings, now thoroughly interested ; 
“ but upon what do you base your conjecture ? ” 

“ Pardon me if, from prudential motives, I do not give you 
the full details of my investigations so far, as they are not 
quite completed, but I am gradually weaving a network 
around this accomplished scoundrel from which he will find 
it exceedingly difficult to extricate himself. I come to you 
for a missing link in the chain of evidence.” 

“But even supposing your proofs are complete for con- 
viction, where is your man ? First catch the hare before 
you proceed to cook him, I should think.” 

“ I can put my hand on him at any moment I choose ; 
but, as time is valuable, let us proceed. Are you willing to 
answer my questions ? ” 

“ Certainly, so far as they have a bearing on the subject. 
I am a magistrate myself and am always willing to aid any 
officer of the law in the discharge of his duty,” said Mr. 
Hastings, whose doubts were now entirely dissipated. 

In the succeeding half-hour the detective, by a few adroit 
questions, succeeded in obtaining all the details of the rob- 
bery of the desk, so far as the proprietor knew them. 

“ Thanks, Mr. Hastings, these points will help me con- 
siderably and may indeed prove the missing link in our 
chain ; but the fellow, it seems, did not succeed very well, 
after all ? ” 

“No ; so far as cash was concerned his booty was small, 
but he carried ofit’ some valuable papers. ” 

“ But why should he have gone right to that desk, un- 
less he knew of your habit at some time of keeping money 
there ? ” said the detective, meditatively. 

“ That is the singular part of it, for I did keep cash there 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


139 


at one time, sometimes in considerable amount, but have 
not done so lately — not for some years.” 

‘•Your servants know that you frequently have large 
sums in the house, and probably are aware of your place of 
deposit.” 

“ I suppose some of them are, but I have no reason to 
suspect any of them. So far as I know, they are honest 
and above all suspicion.” 

“So far as you know — yes,” said the stranger, a little 
sarcastically ; “ but, my dear sir, if you had been a detective 
as many years as I have, you would trust no one until the 
proofs of integrity were piled ‘ Pelion on Ossa.’ ” 

His hearer looked up surprised, for the man spoke with 
a precision and accuracy which was unusual with his class, 
and then answered ; 

“ Heaven forbid that any experience should ever be 
mine which should give universal distrust of my fellow- 
men.” 

Humanum est errare,” quoted the detective to his won- 
dering listener ; “but we must take care that they do not 
err too much, or good-by to our chances.” 

Thanking the gentleman for his courtesy and informa- 
tion, the Englishman closed his note-book, in which he had 
carefully entered everjdhing of any importance communi- 
cated by the master of the villa, and took his departure, 
saying that he might possibly call again or send for further 
information before very long. 

“I suppose you would allow me, if I should deem it 
necessary, to examine the servants, especially the govern- 
ess ? ” he asked, while standing on the doorstep. 

“ Certainly, I have no objection to any measures neces- 
saiy to subserve the interests of justice,” was the answer, 
and the officer sprang into the waiting cab, and was driven 
rapidly away. 

A week later, Mr. Hastings was again asked to meet a 


140 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


stranger in the parlor, and responded to the summons 
promptly. Elsie, who had been in the room when the 
visitor entered, and had retreated at once, met her father 
in the hall, about to enter, and detained him for an in- 
stant. 

“Father, he is a most peculiar-looting fellow. He quite 
startled me at first, his eyes looked so like — ” she said, in 
a whisper. “ If I did not know it was impossible, I should 
be certain it was he.” 

“ Don’t indulge in baseless fancies, my dear. It is the 
English detective, I have no doubt, that visited me last 
week. He is a peculiar man, and has a history, I should 
say, that might be interesting, at any rate, he is much 
better educated than most of his class. However, I must 
not keep this dreadful fellow waiting, good-by.” 

“But, pa, take care of yourself. Mrs. Wagram said she 
saw the other man last week, and didn’t like his appearance 
at all.” 

“I am not a bit surprised at Mrs. Wagram talking so, 
but when did my fearless daughter begin to gi’ow timid. 
A young lady w'ho could live among total strangers for 
three weeks and then pay clandestine visits, alone and un- 
protected since, keeping all her friends in the dark, surely 
cannot be afraid of anything.” 

Elsie knew by the expression of her father’s face that he 
was speaking mainly in jest, and yet, in spite of herself, her 
lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. 

“ Oh, father, you know how gladly I w^ould tell you all, 
if I possibly could, but 

“ There now, Elsie, you know I would not hurt your 
feelings for w'orlds ; we two know each other too well for 
that. You will explain everything to my satisfaction one 
of these days, I am confident. I only spoke so, to scare 
away your timid fit which is unlike you.” 

Kissing his forehead, she pushed him toward the pailor 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


141 


door, saying, “ Now go and see your detective if you must ; 
good-by.” 

On entering the room Mr. Hastings was astonished to 
find an entire stranger instead of his interviewer of last 
week. So impressed had he been with the idea that he was 
to meet the English detective, that he could not help show- 
ing his surprise in his manner. This the new-comer no- 
ticed at once, for his quick restless eyes seemed to let noth- 
ing escape ; and yet IVIr. Hastings thought that he avoided 
his full gaze. AVhether his daughter’s words had exerted 
any influence or not, he could not help receiving the same 
impression which she did. 

“ You did not expect to see me, Mr. Hastings, I perceive ; 
that is, you expected another man, did you not ? ” 

“I certainly did, but perhaps you have come in his 
place ? ” 

“ I am, that, but when did he say he was agoing to come 
again ? ” 

“Well, he did not say he was coming back at all, posi- 
tively, but might do so, or possibly would send.” 

“ That’s jolly right,” said the listener, with a gratified 
manner, still rolling the eyes around furtively “an’ he’s 
sent me.” 

“ And what is your name, please ? ” 

“ Name ! Oh, Lukens ; yes, Lukens, at your service.” 

“ Your name is not Lukens, or I am mistaken,” thought 
the gentleman ; “ but I suppose detectives have as many 
aliases as the scoundrels they try to bring to justice.” 
“Well, Ml*. Lukens, what do you wish this morning?” 

“ Ah, yes, business before pleasure, that’s correct.” 

The fellow’s assurance was so irritating, that his hearer 
felt strongly inclined to order him out, but he controlled 
his feelings and suffered him to proceed. 

“Perhaps, then, you will be good enough, ]\Ir. Hastings, 
to go over, ah, well, recapitulate is the word,” and he 


142 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


smiled in a satisfied way as if pleased with himself at having 
found such a fine word. “ Recapitulate,” he repeated, “I 
think, covers the ground, so that I may know precisely — yes 
precisely ’s the word, precisely, what my — pal — no — not 
that ” 

Gonfrhey' suggested the hearer, who was now really 
amused. 

Confrere f ” said the other, slowly, as if handling a new 
species of verbal monstrosity for the first time, and a little 
afraid it might bite him, or might express something oppo- 
site to his wishes. 

“ Colleague, then,” again interpolated Mr. Hastings. 

The visitor seized it with the avidity with which a trout 
snatches a fly, when temptingly offered. 

‘‘ Colleague, that’s the word. "What fine things words are, 
Mr. Hastings, when you get ’em right, an’ I’m blowed if 
you haven’t a purty good stock on ’em, and all hummers 
too, I’m blessed if they ain’t.” 

“ So you wish me to inform you of what your colleague 
did while here ; is that it ? ” 

“ Blessed if it ain’t — right to a trivet.” 

This appeared reasonable and, although somewhat sus- 
picious, the gentleman, who was becoming rather impatient, 
gave a detailed account of what had transpired at the in- 
terview with the previous detective. The listener lost not 
a word but carefully noted everything in his case book, a 
new one, with the words. Case Book No. 5, showily printed 
in gold letters on the outside, and which he took good 
care should be seen. 

“ So, ah. Madam Wagram — Wagram, I think you put it ? ” 
Mr. Hastings nodded ; “ this lady was not examined ? ” 

“ No, and perhaps you would wish to interview her,” said 
the gentleman, who was anxious to escape. 

“Just the thing, and we need not detain you, Mr. — au— 
Hastings. Let me see this ]Mi's, Wagram, please.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


143 


So the housekeeper was summoned, and Mr. Hastings 
left them, saying : “ Mi’s. Wagram, this gentleman is an Eng- 
lish detective sent to obtain information concerning the 
robbery of my desk. Will you please give him an account 
of it as far as you know ? ” 

When alone with the Frenchwoman the detective’s man- 
ner changed completely, and he became obsequious and 
even fawning. I am pleased beyond measure to meet a 
lady of your intelligence — and a French lady, too — noted all 
the world over for their wit and observation. I know you 
can tell me everything, for I have heard of you before, and 
how very lucky the family here is to have you to take charge 
of things.” 

The result was, the delighted lady’s tongue was loosened 
and she literally told him everything ; told him where the 
family plate and valuables were stored, where money was 
kept when in the house, and also the fact that the follow- 
ing week the proprietor and his daughter were to be absent 
on a visit for a few days ; and she confided that she meant 
to take advantage of the circumstance to go and see her 
married sister w^ho lived about twenty miles off. 

“ Of course I shall only be away for the day and shall re- 
turn in the evening, Monsieur, for I must take great care of 
the house when Meester Hastings and Mademoiselle are 
away.” 

“ Now, Mrs. Wagram it is a shame, a burning shame to 
keep you confined so. You lose your bright color and that 
complexion for which your countrywomen are so famous,” 
said the detective, gallantly, “ "WTiy not stay two days at least 
with your sister. The house is safe enough I’m sure. 
We’re watching the house, and I assure you, my dear 
Madame, it is absolutely safe. Go and stay two days. It 
w^ould be cruel to go twenty miles and back on one day. 
Why you couldn’t get half your visit out.” 

“ Oh, how I should like it ! Pear Annetta, she say to me 


144 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


last time, ‘ Ma soeur, you must come one week.’ Oh, I am 
only afraid Meester Hastings will not let me go only for 
one day.” 

“ Don't tell him anything about it. K the house is safe 
that’s all he cares for. Jest you go.” 

“And Monsieur you be really watching la maison — 
truly — la verity ? ” 

“Yes, my pal — I mean my colleague and me, we never 
takes our eyes off it night or day. Looking for this thief, 
you see. Why, the house’s as safe as if it was in the 
Queen’s Palace.” 

Having obtained all the information desired and also a 
half promise from madame that she would take the two 
days’ holiday with her sister, the detective departed. 

Mr. Hastings and Elsie the following Monday left for 
the city to pay the long postponed visit to Mrs. St. Johns 
and family, Elsie to remain for two or three weeks and 
Mr. Hastings to return at the end of the week. 

Within an hour of their departure Mrs. Wagram was en 
route for her sister’s abode, having made up her mind to 
spend two days at least before returning. That night the 
Hermitage was entered by burglars and the family plate, 
some valuable jewelry, and other things taken, besides some 
^300 in money. The total loss was about $3,000. The 
robbery was skilfully accomplished and the booty carried 
off, and not a trace which could avail as a clue to the per- 
petrators of the act left behind. A diamond cross worth 
$1,500, an heir-loom of generations, was among the miss- 
ing valuables. This, with several rings, bracelets, neck- 
laces, and earrings, some of which were very precious, both 
from intrinsic and associative value, were deposited in the 
strong closet in Mr. Hastings’ dressing-room. The jewel- 
box containing them was taken away by the thieves, in 
all probability, without being opened. 

The robbery was evidently the work of professional^ 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


145 


who had knowledge of the interior arrangements of the 
building. No one sleeping in the house was disturbed, and 
not until late in the next morning was it suspected that the 
mansion had been invaded by midnight prowlers who “ had 
at their leisure worked their pleasure,” as James Martin, the 
coachman, pithily put it, when informed by his sweetheart, 
the upper housemaid, of what had taken place. 

“ Indeed, James, and it’s just dreadful, it is, and Mrs. 
Wagram away too ; and, poor soul, she’ll cry her eyes out 
when she hears it, she jest will.” 

“ Jane, in my opinion Mrs. Wagi’am never oughter have 
gone away from home and the master being away.” 

‘‘ But, law bless you, James, she couldn’t have stopped 
them thieves, s’posing she’d been here, now, could she? 
Women can’t fight, and she sleeps as sound as any on us.” 

This was unanswerable, but yet James, who was not too 
fond of the fussy Frenchwoman, held privately to his first 
opinion, although he would not dispute the matter with 
Jane, whom he well knew was much attached to the house- 
keeper. So, wise man that he was, he improved the shin- 
ing hour of leisure in furthering his courting interests and 
having a delightful talk about pleasant matters with the 
girl of his heart. 

When Mrs. Wagram did return it was pitiable to behold 
her grief. She cried and moaned like some poor denizen 
of the woods when wounded by the cruel sportsman. She 
was implicitly trusted by the family and she returned their 
trust by all the affection and devotion that her Gallic nature 
was susceptible of. 

“ Oh, Jane, I shall die ; oh, ma tete, ma tete ! ” clasping 
her head with both hands. “Je suis tres mal.” Then, a 
new idea seizing her, she started up. “Oh, that villain — 
that one traitor. Je crois. Oh le grand bete — le diable ! 
I will kill him, I will.” 

“ Why, Mrs. Wagram, what is it — who do you think of^ 
10 


146 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


where is the villain ? ” said Jane, bewildered, and wishing 
that James was there to explain matters and tell her what 
she had better do, for she really was afraid the impetuous 
Frenchwoman was going crazy. 

“ Le villain — le grand villain ; why the detective to be 
sure. He no detective — he one gi’and robber. Je suis sure, 
je suis.” 

Jane, who knew nothing about the communications made 
by Madame in a moment of vanity and confidence, in the 
full belief that it was all right, or at least safe enough, 
was more puzzled than ever, and looked anxiously toward 
the door in order to be sure of an exit in case a violent fit 
on the part of the excited housekeeper should render re- 
treat advisable. But Mrs. Wagram after a while quieted 
down, and although most of the time dissolved in tears, 
yet resumed her ordinary duties with increased alacrity, 
for she was a notable housekeeper, and a capital manager, 
in spite of her vanity and eccentricity. 

Mr. Hastings returned about Thursday, having been 
hastened by a letter from Mrs. Wagram, telling him, amid 
numerous expressions, mostly in French, of sorrow and re- 
gret, of what had occurred. 

“It is too bad,” he said to his daughter, “ but this poor 
woman seems to blame herself, and I cannot see how she 
is to blame. That cross I intended for your w^edding pres- 
ent when that day arrived, as I suppose it will. It was 
your grandmother’s, and I meant to have had it reset.” 

“ Don’t let that vex you, father ; my wedding is a thing of 
the very uncertain and remote future, if ever at all, and I 
really don’t like crosses anyway, even if they are diamond. 
It isn’t as bad as if there had been a fire and we had lost 
all.” 

It was with some difficulty that Elsie was persuaded to 
remain longer at the St. Johns’. She would much have 
preferred to return with her father for several reasons, but 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


147 


especially on Mrs. Wagi’am’s account, to whom she was sin- 
cerely attached. But Mrs. St. Johns wouldn’t hear of it, 
and she was forced to remain for a few days longer. 

The young people at the city mansion were very fond 
of society, and Elsie found herself in a round of balls and 
festive gatherings that taxed her nervous system, vigorous 
as she was, and made sad inroads upon her time. She lit- 
erally found time for nothing like study or thought. But 
study and thought were at a discount in the St. Johns 
mansion, where, during the season, life passed in a whirl 
of excitement and so-called pleasure. Not but what the 
country maiden enjoyed the change for a time ; but her 
healthful habits were too strongly established to submit to 
such a complete subversion of former customs. It was a 
positive relief to her to steal away from the parlor, or easy 
room — w^here Mrs. St. Johns received her milliners and 
dressmakers, and indeed w^here she and her daughters spent 
a good part of their leisure — and have a good talk with Mr. 
St. Johns in the library, about some favorite author or 
some place which both had visited or known. The talk 
up-stairs ‘about the gay world and its costumes, the petty 
scandal which is retailed among fashionable people, and 
empty small talk, was sometimes so unendurable that she 
felt as if she must go somewhere to breathe. 

If people talk at all, it must of necessity be of what they 
know, and the light surface life of gay city dwellers affords 
much material for conversation in the form of amusing so- 
ciety episodes and personal peculiarities which obtrude 
themselves daily within the charmed cii’cle. Then, again, 
the drawing-rooms of fashionable life are by no means bar- 
ren of intellect or destitute of thinkers, for these are some 
of the many fields in which thinkers glean, and some of 
the brightest utterances, most brilliant flashes of genius 
and keen mental scintillations — veritable coruscations of 
wit and fancy— are thrown off during these moments of 


148 


THE KUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


relaxation and leisure, when the brain is stimulated by the 
dazzling surroundings. Yes, the subtlest play of the im- 
agination is often witnessed on such occasions, but it is 
usually the offering of some casual visitor at the shrine, 
not that of the constant devotee. 

Like the rare floral ornaments often seen at such places, 
the rich products of very different conditions than those 
presented by the glare and gas and impure unhealthy at- 
mosphere — so the intellectual jewels and flowers of thought 
occasionally delighting one at fashionable gatherings, are 
usually from afar, the products of solitude, the study, 
the solitary ramble amid nature’s own oracles — the healthy 
offspring of careful observers and profound reflectors. 
These occasional pilgrims to the temples of pleasure, these 
whilom perusers of the motley page, these laughing phi- 
losophers, furnish condiments which season what would 
otherwise be a very insipid dish, even to those who by 
daily partaking have inured their palates to its flavor. 

“You must really persuade your father to sell the ‘ Her- 
mitage,’ my dear, and come and live in the city. It is not 
safe for you there. Just think of two robberies in one sea- 
son, and then your detention or imprisonment. There now, 
don’t be excited, I must call it by its right name, for those 
people couldn’t be really friends when they would not al- 
low you to inform your friends of your whereabouts. 
Friends indeed ! enemies I should call them, to keep you 
from your own father and other friends who were almost 
frantic to find you.” 

“ But, my dear Mrs. St. Johns, I could have left the very 
next day had I so chosen ; besides, you know, a bird unwil- 
lingly kept in a cage doesn’t often return after being re- 
leased, and I have been to see these enemies, as you term 
them, and had a most enjoyable visit.” 

“No, Elsie, don’t tell me that you went to see those 
people again. It caniiot be possible,” said the horrified lady, 


THE RUSSIAK REFUGEE. 


149 


rising in her astonishment from the fauteuil in which she 
had been reclining ; the young ladies in vai’ious easy atti- 
tudes and neglige costumes, sitting near, engaged in fancy 
work. 

“Oh, mamma, how dehghtful ! How I should hke to have 
gone with you, Elsie. Do tell us all about it ! ” said Alfa- 
rina, clasping her hands enthusiastically. Angelina, whose 
curiosity was as strong as her sister’s, thought it necessary 
to look reproachfully at her. 

“Alf, how can you talk that way ; besides, Elsie is still 
bound by her promise, no doubt,” the latter words uttered 
with the delicate sarcasm for which she was noted. 

“ But, my darling, did your father know all about it ? 
Surely you didn’t venture alone ? ” 

“ I would have gone alone,” said Elsie, simply ; “ but I 
didn’t know the way, and so Hiram — you remember Hiram 
— conducted me.” 

“ Hiram, that great awkward ogre ! I cannot beheve that 
you went alone to a strange place with him. I wouldn’t 
trust him as far as I could see him.” 

Elsie looked hurt. “ Mrs. St. Johns, I would go with 
him to China, and would trust him with my life anywhere. 
He is fidelity itself.” 

“ Fidelity long drawn out,” interrupted Alf. “ I beg 
your pardon, Elsie ; go on.” 

“Long fidelity at any rate,” resumed Elsie, smihng at 
the sally, “for I have known him all my life.” 

“ Yes, my dear, but it is so different knowing such people 
as a child and knowing them as a young lady. I daresay 
he is very honest, and all that, but he is certainly no fit com- 
panion for you. You must let me speak to you plainly, for 
you have no mother, and I regard you as a daughter.” 

“ Thank you very much, Mrs. St. Johns, but really you 
cannot understand Hiram as I do, and father thinks almost 
as much of him.” 


150 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


It was the renewal of an old battle, for Hiram was no 
favorite with the St. Johns famil3% To them he was a gaunt, 
uncouth, crafty sort of wild man of the woods, and they 
could not possibly understand him, as they only looked on 
his exterior, and that was unattractive enough. City people 
almost necessarily have a different standard of comparison 
for humanity from country folks. For in the country, em- 
ployers come into more direct and personal contact with 
their employes, and with the working classes generally, 
than is possible in the city, and the man or woman is judged 
and estimated less for their appearance than for their quali- 
fications. Elsie’s training had given her this deeper knowl- 
edge, this insight, aud she knew that there w\as more genu- 
ine humanity and true manhood under the trapper’s rough 
exterior than under many a fine city gentleman’s expensive 
and elegant attire. Indeed, she vastly preferred the common 
sense utterances of many of these rustics, with \vhom she 
was often brought into conversational contact, to the vapid, 
silly simperings of the ordinary society beaux. She rather 
enjoyed setting society at defiance, and while her instincts 
always saved her from doing anything really unladylike, j-et 
she frequently broke the conventional rules and usages, es- 
pecially where they trenched too closely on the liberty of 
her sex. 

It was keen enjoyment to her to witness the aghast man- 
ner in wluQh poor IVIi’s. St. Johns, who was trammelled hand 
and foot by society — a slave of etiquette — listened to her 
description of the visit to the cave. The meeting the hun- 
ter on the lonely moor, and following his lead so far, and 
then the climax — horror of horrors ! — binding the eyes wdth 
the silk, and permitting herself to be led blindfolded through 
the darkness into the dwelling. To the sisters it was like 
a fairy tale. Alf loudly expressed her delight, while IVIiss 
St. Johns preserved a discreet silence and demure air. 

“ It is really dreadful, my child ! Why, if this was known 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


151 


your reputation would suiOfer terribly ; your father must be 
mad to permit such things. I must write to him at once.” 

“ He knows all about it, for I told him, and some day I 
am going to take him with me — at least the Patriarch said 
I might after a while.” 

“ The who ? ” ejaculated both girls, at once. “ Who did 
you say — the patriai'ch — who’s the patriarch ? ” 

Elsie blushed, conscious of having made a sHp of the 
tongue, but immediately answered, “ Oh, I mean the old 
gentleman who owns the establishment.” 

But they were in great glee at having, as they thought, 
captured part of the secret which she had guarded so sedu- 
lously during all these months ; and so the patriarch was 
frequently on their lips, Roland especially asking her on 
all occasions when she had heard from the pati'iarch, etc. 

The city visit was cut short, however, for at the beginning 
of the third week, Elsie received a note from her father, 
saying that Hr. Seaman and his English friends were in 
New York, and expected to be at the Hermitage by the end 
of the week. Mr. Thompson, it seemed, was accompanied 
by both his daughters, Ellen having, at Seaman’s urgent so- 
licitation, agreed to join the party at almost the last moment. 
Mrs. Thompson would not venture on the voyage, and so 
was to take advantage of the vacation to visit an only sister 
living in Newcastle, who had long been urging her to visit 
Northumberland and the lake district. It seemed the party 
had stood the voyage well, and were in the best of spirits. 

So Elsie decided to go home at once, to play hostess, in 
spite of the remonstrances of the St. Johns family, who 
wished the Thompson and Seaman party had been detained 
by adverse winds, so that they could not so soon rob them 
of their guest. At least this was Roland’s gallant senti- 
ment, and there was no dissentient voice. However, Elsie 
felt she must go, and go she did, arriving home the day 
before the guests were expected. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


TRANS-ATLANTIC VISITORS. 

“ Well, Cousin Elsie, it seemed as if I never was going to 
see you again,” said Dr. Seaman, saluting the young hostess 
on both cheeks in a truly cousinly manner. “ Mr. Thomp- 
son, let me make you acquainted with the best girl in the 
world — that is,” glancing quickly toward the young Eng- 
lishwomen, “ in the western world.” 

“ Too late. Dr. Seaman ; but really, from the glowing ac- 
counts he has given us of you. Miss Hastings, he should be 
ashamed to try and qualify his remark,” said Louisa, as 
she and her sister were cordially greeted by Elsie. 

The travellers were rather fatigued by their journey from 
the metropolis, and readily agreed to the suggestion of the 
young hostess to retire for a couple of hours to their 
rooms, and come down to a five o’clock dinner, it now 
being about three. 

“Do not disturb yourselves until you hear the bell, 
which will ring half an hour before the dinner is served, 
giving you ample time to make your toilet,” said Elsie, as 
she left the sisters in their apartment. 

Five o’clock, or rather half-past five — for Elsie purposely 
delayed the dinner to give the guests another half-hour’s 
rest — found the whole party at the table ; and a very merry 
party they were, indeed. Anecdotes to relate of the voyage, 
impressions of the new world, and the differences in cus- 
toms and manner, giving abundant material for light, easy 
conversation, kept all tongues busy. The genial Englishman 
and Mr. Hastings having met once before in London, nat- 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


153 


urally enjoyed the occasion, while the young ladies and 
Seaman kept up an unceasing fusilade across the table. 

“ Why didn't you answer my last letter, Elsie ? I have a 
bone to pick with you about that ; and such a beautiful letter 
as it was, too.” 

“ Such a letter, so full of conceit and assurance. I really 
didn’t feel myself worthy to write to such a dignified indi- 
vidual.” 

You wouldn’t have thought him conceited if you’d seen 
him last Wednesday, during the storm, Miss Hastings ; pale 
as a ghost, and so woe-begone,” remarked Louisa, while 
her sister looked at him commiseratingly. 

“Yes, I’m sure, poor fellow, you would have forgiven 
him all his sins had you seen him. Miss Hastings.” 

“Eeally, your sympathy repays me for all I endured. 
Miss Ellen ; I confess I must have been a sorry -looking 
mortal, for I felt bad enough. However, Neptune has no 
more claims on me ; I paid him in full of all demands.” 

“ But were you not sick. Miss Thompson, or your sister ; 
surely you did not escape ? ” 

“ Let me tell the story, Elsie,” returned Seaman, quickly ; 
“ Miss Ellen, I verily believe, was not sick at aU ; one of 
the lucky few, but Miss Louisa, well — but I’d better not 
tell.” 

“ You didn’t see me sick once, sir, and I was on deck 
every day. Don’t mind your cousin. Miss Hastings, he’s 
only trying to spoil my record as a worthy seaman.” 

“If you were not sick, how was it that you only appeared 
at dinner during the last three days ? ” 

“ Because I didn’t like the cooking, and the odor of the 
saloon was nauseating, but you only make the charge from 
hearsay, not being present yourself to note my absence.” 

“ Miss EUen, you must decide between us ; I appeal unto 
Csesar.” 

“ Knowing very well that Csesar herself was not at din- 


154 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


ner more than half the time, preferring to remain on deck ; 
besides, he fondly imagines, Miss Hastings, that Ellen would 
be sure to notice him whether she was aware of my pres- 
ence or not.” 

“Indeed, I think you were a pretty sick pair, and I can’t 
give either of you much credit for sea-going qualities,” said 
Ellen, quietly. 

“That’s right, Ellen. You and I were the only sailors of 
the party,” remarked Mr. Thompson, “ but we really had 
some most abominable weather, although we made uncom- 
monly good time.” 

Mr. Thompson after dinner walked about the Hermitage 
grounds with his host, and pronounced it a most delightful 
place. “ But what a singular style of house ; it seems to 
belong to no special order of architecture. When was it 
built ? ” 

“ About seventy years ago, or rather more than that, for 
it is almost fifty years since the builder sold it, after 
occupying it himself for many years. I judge it must be 
fully eighty years old.” 

“ The man who built that mansion, ]VIi\ Hastings, was no 
common man, or at least I should say, it was erected with 
no common object in view. Why, it bears some resem- 
blance to an old-fashioned dagger in shape.” 

“ Oh, no, surely not ; I always supposed it was meant to 
resemble a cross.” 

“Take my word for it, the man who erected your house 
had more faith in daggers than crosses. Don’t you see the 
point, I don’t mean of my remark, but of the dagger?” 

On close inspection the proprietor acknowledged the 
point, for the long building behind, which formed the 
blade of the dagger, according to Mr. Thompson, and the 
stem of the cross, according to the hitherto accepted view, 
w'as really brought to a curving point, although it had not 
been specially noticed before by anyone, so far as the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


155 


present proprietor knew, and during the summer was al- 
most hidden from view by dense shrubbery. The English- 
man was much elated by his discovery and manifested a 
little pardonable vanity in dwelling on it. 

“I am naturally antiquarian in my tastes, Mi\ Hastings, 
and my father before me, too, had the same fancy for the 
antique, and as a boy I used to go poking about old abbeys 
and ruins in studying them, and tracing up the history 
of such places, by the windows as they successively 
changed from a mere slit or arrow shape, through succeed- 
ing stages of architectural development, to the arch and 
other graceful forms of later days.” 

“ Elsie, ]Mi\ ' Thompson has made quite a discovery on 
our old place here.” 

“ Indeed ! why, I supposed everything was known that 
could be knowm about it.” 

“Let me ask you. Miss Elsie, what shape or form you 
think this building is ? ” 

“ Our house ! why, a cross ; I think it can be seen quite 
clearly if you stand on the knoll at the end of the gar- 
den.” 

“ No, Miss, you’re wrong, quite wrong ; it’s a dagger, and 
a foreign dagger, too.” 

“ A dagger ! Why, the end of the stem is too round or 
blunt for a dagger, Mr. Thompson ; surely you must be 
mistaken ! ” 

“Ah, my dear, that is what has served to deceive you all. 
The dagger is in a sheath, which is generally blunt or curved 
at the extremity.” 

'“Let us go and see this discovery of father’s,” said 
Louisa, springing up, and all passed through the library 
window into the garden, led by Elsie, who was as eager as 
anybody to verify the statement if possible. On ascending 
the mound they obtained an excellent side view of the 
house and all agreed at once that the intention of the arch- 


156 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


itect was one of the two forms named, but they were about 
equally divided as to which one. The three ladies held 
for the cross, although Elsie conceded that her conviction 
was not so strong as before, since the possibility of the 
dagger form had been suggested, while the host now fully 
agreed with his guest, and marvelled that he had not ob- 
served it earlier. 

“ I suppose I heard someone say it was a cross and took 
it for granted that he knew,” remarked the proprietor. “ I 
sometimes think that more than half that v»e have been ac- 
customed to accept as true on the say so, or teachings, of 
others, would, if thoroughly examined and tested, be 
found to be without any reasonable foundation.” 

“ Yes,” assented the Englishman, “ and if people began to 
use their faculties and weigh evidence, how much of the 
accepted doctrines, dogmas, dicta, and hitherto considered 
facts in popular systems of sociology, politics, etc., would 
last a month ? ” 

“ Truth, with a large admixture of error, has seemingly 
always been the food of mankind, and it may be that the 
mental and moral digestion would not tolerate the pure 
ai’ticle, at least at this stage of development, ho more than 
the physical system seems able to assimilate foods or carry 
on its digestive process thoroughly without a certain pro- 
portion of waste material mixed with it,” returned Mr. 
Hastings. 

“But, you gentleman seem to think that you have estab- 
lished your point — your dagger point, I mean — whereas you 
are only a minority, the majority, the intelligent majority, 
still holding on to the cross,” archly insisted Louisa. 

“ But here comes Dr. Seaman, fresh from his after-din- 
ner ramble,” said her father. “ Seaman, what does this 
building remind you of ? ” 

“ If I were still in Europe I should say a cross, but here 
it would seem singular to build a private house in such a 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


157 


form unless the man was very ‘ high church ’ indeed, or 
else a Roman Catholic.” 

But it was built, so far as I can find out, by a Russian,” , 
said his uncle. 

“Was it ? Then undoubtedly it is meant for a cross, for 
that is the commonest symbol in Russia.” 

“ Let me shake hands with you. Dr. Seaman,” said Lou- 
isa, with mock gravity, after a little peal of triumph had 
been uttered by the ladies. “I knew you could tell a cross 
from a weapon of war.” 

In vain Mr. Thompson tried to point out the'suggestions of 
ornamental clasps as shown in the stone-work, also the scroll- 
work where the blade entered the sheath. “ Yes, and here 
is a circular projection to represent the ring by which the 
dagger was attached to the person.” It was no use ; the 
majority, exulting in their new ally, refused to be converted. 

Elsie, however, after the mention of the Russian origin 
of the building, could not help thinking of a certain pict- 
ure, evidently an allegorical composition, in which a dag- 
ger of curious workmanship was shown piercing the centre 
of a blood-red circle. She remembered this as one of the 
strange things hanging on the walls of the cave, and she 
could not help wondering if all Russians preferred the cross 
exclusively as a symbol. 

The inmates of the Hermitage were delighted with their 
new guests, and tried in every way to make their visit a 
pleasant one. They intended visiting Niagara Falls and 
other prominent points, and even, if time allowed, to cross 
the continent and see the Yosemite and other wonders of 
California and the Pacific coast. Elsie and the young 
Englishwomen agreed charmingly, and after Ellen’s reserve 
wore off, so that her true, gentle nature could be appre- 
ciated at its full value, Elsie became greatly attached to 
her, and she half suspected a certain cousin of hers held 
similar or warmer sentiments toward the fair Briton. 


158 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


Elsie and Seaman were one day conversing by themselves, 
and they soon found they had touched on an old but favor- 
ite topic — the adaptability of different temperaments to 
each other. Elsie mischievously hinted that, in spite of 
his theories, she expected soon to have a new cousin in the 
person of the frank, energetic young Englishwoman with 
whom he had had the adventure, as narrated in his letter. 
“I know it will be a struggle between your philosophy 
and your affections. Cousin Warren, but when did phil- 
osophy get the better of love ? ” she laughingly asked 
him. 

“ You mean that Louisa and I resemble each other, being 
of similar dispositions and temperament? That is true, 
my sapient cousin, for we are both of the vital tempera- 
ment, and of the sanguine persuasion.” 

‘‘ Then she is not your — what is that learned expression 
of yours that you were so fond of ? ” 

“Physiological complement,” interposed her cousin. 

“ Oh, yes, physiological complement. Then she is not 
your ‘ physiological complement ? ’ Upon my word, that is 
a pretty pet name to apply to a young lady. I think I 
must tell Louisa.” 

“ But I told you she was not my physiological comple- 
ment,” persisted Seaman. 

“ Then how dare you pay court to a lady who is not 
your ‘physio, com.,’ which is short for the jaw-twisting 
phrase ? ” quickly remarked Elsie. 

“ Prove it. I deny the allegation and defy the allegator.” 

“ Well, then, I know who is your p. c., and it may be 
you have been trying to throw sand in my eyes, you sly 
boots, you. The young lady has a sister, and it may be 
that with her, love and philosophy can harmonize. I shall 
watch you, sir,” pointing her finger at him mischievously. 

Under her seri-o-comic look of accusation she was de- 
lighted to see the color spring to her cousin’s face, and 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 159 

indeed for a moment he seemed utterly nonplussed by her 
change of base, but he soon resumed the defensive. 

“My dear Elsie, even your bright optics may not be 
sharp enough under such severe conditions ; let me offer 
you a pair of eye-glasses for the purpose in view,” at the 
same time producing a queer looking pair of magnifying 
lenses from his pocket. 

“ Don’t trouble yourself, sir. What my eyes cannot detect 
in this matter won’t be of much account ; besides, I may en- 
list some other optics, as you call them, in this noble service.” 

“ Success to you, fair coz, and when you find out my p. c. 
please introduce me.” 

Dr. Seaman listened favorably to his uncle’s suggestion 
that he should open an office at Melville, although he con- 
cluded not to decide until thorough investigation had been 
made. He was much discouraged at first by the number 
of physicians already located, but Mr. Hastings soon showed 
liim that this drawback was more apparent than real. From 
various causes, which have been alluded to before, the bulk 
of the practice had fallen into the hands of about five men, 
who were most of the time crowded with work. The new- 
comer might have up-hill work for a few months, but the 
prospect was that at the expiration of a year he would be 
in active practice. 

“ The truth is, as I think I mentioned in my letter, we 
are in a sort of crisis with regard to our medical men here, 
and a good, conscientious, temperate physician coming in 
will have nearly as good a chance as the older practitioners. 
Several of our doctors have been spoiled by success and 
fallen into bad habits, and the best families will not employ 
them. Even if they should reform it would be long ere 
they could regain the confidence of the community, and in 
any case would probably do better in a new place,” said 
the owner of the Hermitage when his nephew approached 
him on the matter, 


160 


THE KUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


Seaman was not at all familiar with the neighborhood, 
having only been there once before for a couple of weeks 
when a boy, but Elsie, knowing the region thoroughly, soon 
posted him concerning everything of importance, and they 
and the two Enghsh girls had a variety of most delightful 
walks and drives far and near, so that he soon felt quite at 
home. 

“ Uncle,” asked he at dinner one day, “I think this is 
the only place I have ever seen, that is a private residence, 
having a circular enclosure. The house is in the centre of a 
perfect circle, and yet you have straight fences enclosing the 
entire property, which seems to be square or rectangular.” 

“ I noticed the same thing as the doctor, and was a little 
curious about this circular fence. I confess I rather like it, 
for it is uncommon. How much land have you enclosed in 
the circle ? ” queried the English guest. 

“ Somewhere about fifteen acres,” returned the host, “ but 
the circle was not my own choice. I found it so enclosed 
and left it. It was a whim of the former proprietor, the 
man who built the dwelling.” 

“ I do not wonder at j^our leaving it alone, uncle, for it 
would have been a formidable thing to have removed or 
altered a solid stone wall like this which composes the cir- 
cle.” 

“ No doubt that was the chief reason for its remaining 
undisturbed,” said his uncle, “ for Mr. Whitely, from whom 
I purchased the place thirty years ago, told me it was al- 
ways an eye-sore to him, as it made his fields such awkward 
shapes.” 

“ I notice the wall seems to have been painted on the in- 
side ; rather a useless expense, I should think, for a stone 
wall,” remarked Mr. Thompson. 

“ True, and of all colors in the world, it was originally 
painted red, which Mr. Whitely, on taking possession, cov- 
ered with a deep brown, and occasionally I have given it a 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


161 


coat of tlie same color ; but, as you say, it is a useless ex- 
pense, and I do not think I shall continue it.” 

Elsie, who had listened to the latter part of the conversa- 
tion with dilated eyes, observed eagerly, as her father ceased 
speaking : 

“ Mr. Thompson, I am a convert to your opinion. I am 
satisfied that this house was built intentionally in the form 
of a dagger.” 

“Bravo ! Miss Elsie,” said the guest. “ I knew a sensible 
girl like you would take the right side eventually. Now 
the rest of you had better surrender while the door of 
mercy stands open.” 

“Why, Elsie, what has brought you round so suddenly? 
But we don’t propose to abandon our colors in any such 
dastardly manner, do we, young ladies? ” asked Seaman. 

“ No, indeed,” returned Louisa ; “ ‘ Britons never will be 
slaves.’ We stand by the cross.” 

“ An evangelical sentiment, even if not necessarily a pat- 
riotic one,” said her father. 

“ Elsie, you said you were satisfied that the house was 
intentionally built in the form^of a dagger. Will you ex- 
plain what you mean by intentionally ? ” asked Mr. Has- 
tings, regarding his daughter keenly. 

She blushed painfully, and hesitated for an instant. 
Her cousin, perceiving her embarrassment, came to the res- 
cue. 

“ Oh, uncle, isn’t it a little cruel to ask any young lady 
for an explanation of her emphatic utterances. She wished 
merely to impress her hearers that she had a reason for 
changing her mind, which, some wicked people say, is a 
little unusual with the fair sex.” 

Elsie looked half gratefully and half saucily at her cousin, 
as she answered, “Well, father, I did think I saw a reason 
for the building taking this shape, but, as it is a mere sur- 
mise, I had better verify it before making it public.” She 
11 


162 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


really felt thankful to Warren for so dexterously giving her 
time to recover herself, though she V7as well aware that her 
explanation would not satisfy him. 

“ I wish Dr. Seaman would give us his authority for the 
quotation he used with reference to woman’s reasons,” 
Louisa Thompson remarked, with an assumption of offend- 
ed dignity. 

“I really cannot do it, but it is a common saying that 
no woman ever gives a reason for changing her mind.” 

“Ah! a very different thing from not having a reason. 
Men cannot always be trusted, and so wise women keep 
their own counsel, which probably exasperated some weak- 
headed individual of the sterner sex into originating this 
saying, which is so greedily seized on and quoted by his 
brethren.” 

This reply produced considerable merriment at the table, 
especially when Seaman replied : 

“ Weak-headed individual and his brethren ! Isn’t that 
a little personal? ” 

“Present company excepted, of course,” Ellen said, 
quietly, looking at the doctor. 

“ That depends on the motive which prompted the quo- 
tation. If an evil one, then I move that the sentiment of 
the valiant defender of her much-abused sex stand approved 
as delivered, and no exceptions be allowed, present or ab- 
sent,” promptly answered Elsie to Mr. Thompson’s great 
delight, who shouted : 

“ Bravo 1 bravo I no chance for you. Seaman, not one bit, 
unless you apologize.” 

Seaman tried to look comically penitent and at once dis- 
claimed any evil intent whatever in his remarks, but Louisa 
declared that there was a vicious look in his left eye which 
flatly contradicted what his lips uttered, and urged that his 
apology be refused. It was finally agreed on, at Mr. Has- 
tings’ suggestion, that he be condemned to pay a penalty 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


163 


commensurate with the offence, said penalty to be decided 
by the young ladies after mature deliberation. 

The next morning the guests started on a two or three 
weeks’ trip to Niagara and the West, accompanied by Dr. 
Seaman, and the inmates of the Hermitage found themselves 
again alone. 

The curious coincidence of the red-painted circular fence 
and the dagger-shaped building in its centre, with the pict- 
ure in the cave, caused Elsie much reflection. She felt 
now that at the dinner-table she had rather hastily drawni 
a conclusion on insufficient data ; yet the more she 
thought the subject over, the more she doubted its being a 
mere coincidence. But she regretted her rash expression, 
which she was aware had much surprised her father, al- 
though he made no subsequent allusion to it. His confi- 
dence touched her deeply, and she longed for the time to 
arrive when she could tell him everything and no longer 
have any secret from him. There had been such very open 
relations between them in the past that the present im- 
posed reticence was peculiarly irksome to her. She now 
felt almost feverishly impatient for another visit to the 
cave so that she could examine the picture again and find 
out something about it also, and, more important still, that 
she could in some way or another contrive that her father 
and the “ Eefugee,” for so he had spoken of himself, should 
meet, and her beloved parent share the confidence in rela- 
tion to these interesting strangers which she herself en- 
joyed. 


CHAPTEK XV. 


FACE TO FACE AT LAST. 

“ Good morning, Mr. Hastings,” said a memory-rousing 
voice, as that gentleman was about to enter his grounds 
after a brisk early walk in the balmy spring air. “ IVIight I 
detain you for a few moments before you go to the house ? ” 

“ I remember your voice, but cannot recall your name nor 
face,” said the owner of the grounds in a puzzled way, as he 
sharply regarded the other. 

The stranger raised one hand to his long flowing gray 
beard and the other to his cap and both disappeared in a 
twinkling, and the astonished observer beheld the calm, res- 
olute features and bushy head of the English detective 
who had first called upon him. Mr. Hastings recoiled a 
step and then advanced almost threateningly, as the other 
thought. 

“ What do you do here ? What do you want with me ? 
Have you come to prepare for another robbery of my 
premises ? ” 

“ Pardon me, Mr. Hastings, my intrusion on you, and I 
will pardon your remark. I regret to know that you have 
again suffered at the hands of that accomplished villain, 
but surely you are not justified in connecting me with 
your misfortunes.” 

“ Did you not call on me a few weeks ago and make 
various inquiries, leading me to believe that you were an 
English Bow Street officer, a special detective sent out here 
to arrest a notorious criminal who had escaped from Brit- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 165 

ish justice, and who, furthermore, you declared had un' 
doubtedly robbed my desk ? ” 

The other merely assented by nodding his head, at the 
same time restoring his cap and beard to their former 
places. The gentleman went on : 

‘‘ After taking full notes of everything connected with the 
desk robbery, you left, saying that in a few days you might 
return and question the servants, especially the governess.” 

The other again assented. 

“A week later another detective ” (and here the speaker 
emphasized the word scornfully) “ called on me and repre- 
senting himself as your colleague, did, with my permission, 
examine the housekeeper to such good effect that, a few 
nights later, my dwelling was entered and thoroughly 
robbed, and by parties who knew the premises and had 
carefully laid and executed their plans on information pre- 
viously obtained.’* 

The countenance of the visitor as the narration pro- 
ceeded, so far as could be told, concealed as it was by the 
great beard and slouched cap, expressed unbounded sur- 
prise, succeeded by a smile of satisfaction or admiration, 
the irritated and indignant observer could hardly tell which, 
as Mr. Hastings told of the visit of his colleague and sub- 
sequent successful robbery. As the narrator paused, almost 
choked with anger, which his strong self-control could 
hardly keep within bounds, the stranger burst out with : 

“ By George, that was the sharpest trick I ever heard of. 
I’m blessed if it isn’t.” 

“ I don’t doubt it. Of course, you admit it, and consider 
it very cleverly done. Pray, what share of the proceeds did 
you receive ? ” 

“ I understand you perfectly, my dear sir, and pardon 
your suspicions. In fact, after hearing your story I don’t 
wonder at them at all, but, the truth is, this clever rascal 
has stolen a march on me, and actually, while in the very 


166 


THE RUSSIAN KEFl'UKE. 


meslies of the law which he has so frequently outraged 
again and again, has played a successful ruse worthy of 
Napoleon. I respect him for it, Mr. Hastings. I always 
admire the man who can outwit me.” 

This was said with an undisguised professional admira- 
tion of the sharp trick which had been played, that half 
disarmed his hearer for the moment. 

“In your enjoyment of the success of your accomplice 
you forgot to answer my question as to your share in the 
proceeds, or swag, as, I believe, you gentlemen call it ? ” 

The detective regarded the sj^eaker with a twinkle in his 
eye, which denoted ill-suppressed merriment, but without 
the slightest shade of resentment at the insulting imputa- 
tion, and then, seemingly mastering his risibilities by an 
effort, answered : 

“Mr. Hastings, can you in common reason suppose that, 
were I ‘ particeps criminis ’ in this affair, I would voluntarily 
put my head in the lion’s mouth ? Why, man, you could 
arrest me at once on suspicion and so defeat all my plans. 
No, sir, you have been deceived by a consummate actor 
and thief, wdio, knowing of my presence in this country, 
and surmising its object, and also knowing, by some means 
which I cannot at present divine, of my visit to your house, 
determined to circumvent me by a master-stroke, and fill 
his pockets at the same time.” 

“Then you disclaim any connection with this thieving 
gang, and still insist that you are a bona fide detective ? ” 

“ Most emphatically I do, and if you will accompany me to 
my hotel in Melville, where my valise is, I think I can satis- 
fy you by unmistakable evidence of the truth of what I aver.” 

“ Well, then, I must hold my judgment in suspense, but 
warn you that I can hold no official relations with you, nor 
admit you again to my house on any pretext whatever, until 
I am fully satisfied of the truth of your claims. You must 
concede that I am justified in this course by recent events.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


167 


“ All right, bnt I shall take it as a favor if 3'on will aftbrcl 
me an early opportunity of verifying what I have stated, as 
in 3^our capacity of J. P. I may have to apply to you for 
authority to make some arrests before long. To be frank 
with you, a gang of English burglars and forgers have 
crossed the ocean, and I am one of four detectives who are 
in pursuit, with the intention of extraditing them as speed- 
ily as possible. They have engaged in profitable work here, 
as the entry on your premises clearly shows.” 

“ But why not arrest them at once, if you know them, 
and also where they are, as you certainl}^ stated to me at 
our first meeting ? ” 

“For several reasons, of which the principal is, that our 
chief, with the necessary documents to authorize arrest and 
application for extradition, has not yet arrived, and so all 
we can do is to watch the game.” 

“ But why not arrest them on suspicion and hold them 
until your chief arrives ? Perhaps I asked you the question 
before, but have forgotten your answer.” 

“ You did, and I will answer more fuUy than I did on 
that occasion. If I did arrest these men, they would im- 
mediately fee a couple of your sharp, tricky lawyers w^ho 
would dare me to produce my proofs, and these not im- 
mediately forthcoming, the magistrate would release the 
prisoners at once, and then our game would be up ; for, hav- 
ing been compelled to show our hands, all chances of success 
would be gone. Now I have been frank with you, which 
is an unusual thing for a detective, I assure you ; but I trust 
to your honor that everything that has passed between us 
will be kept sealed in your own breast, and I on my part in 
return for such favor will leave no effort unmade to restore 
you your property and convict the robbers.” 

So saying the officer or robber, whichever he was, raised 
his cap, saying, “ Au revoir,” and departed leaving his 
hearer in serious doubt whether it was not his duty as a 


168 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


magistrate to endeavor to secure his arrest and detention 
until he could prove his identity. However, the strong 
doubt in the man’s favor, which had been increasing during 
the last few moments of conversation with him, paralyzed 
any such intention in the gentleman’s mind until it was too 
late to put it in execution. 

On Mr. Hastings’ return to the house, he found Elsie 
in her walking-dress, apparently just waiting his arrival 
before starting out. 

“Father, I just waited to say good-by, as I shall prob- 
ably not return imtil evening.” 

“Why, my child, isn’t this a rather sudden freak? I 
thought you were to spend to-day in the garden an’anging 
those new flower-beds ? ” 

“So I was; but Hans brought me a note from an old 
friend, who wishes to see me, and so I thought I would 
postpone the flower-beds until to-morrow — that is, if you 
don’t mind.” 

The fact was, Hans since early morning had been watch- 
ing and making sundry sly visits to the house on one pre- 
text or another, in the hope of seeing his young mistress 
alone, in order to deliver to her the precious note intrusted 
to him by Gretchen, with many cautions to give it to no 
one but Miss Elsie, and when no one else was looking. 

“Now Hans, mein one son, you tooken dis lettaire to 
Meese Elsie und put ento her hands youself. An den, 
Hans, your mudder wiU haf somedings goot for you dis 
nacht.” 

And Hans, who was very fond of “somedings goot,” re-^ 
solved that Miss Elsie should have that letter, and no one 
else. Hans, under Mr. Hastings’ new system wdth him, had 
managed to keep sober longer than since he became his 
own master, and w\as doing very fairly as under-gardener 
and man of all work. The truth was, that Hans w^as 
merely one of a large class who are decent people so long 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


169 


as they are under rigid discipline, but who have not de- 
veloped yet to the point where they can control their 
appetites and govern themselves. 

Grown-up children are not by any means uncommon — that 
is, people in adulthood, with all the child’s ungoverned im- 
pulses, with none of the controlling power which maturity 
commonly gives. It becomes a nice question whether the 
state should not stand in loco parentis to such unfortunates, 
and keep them in leading-strings of legislative control, so 
enmeshing them by legal bonds that they cannot go very 
fai’ astray ; controlling, too, with iron hand the scoundrels 
who reap a golden harvest by pandering to the weaknesses 
of theii- fellows. 

Elsie’s letter was from the patriarch, asking her to visit 
them again, as he had something to communicate to her 
which he knew she wished to hear, and saying that the 
same arrangements would be made to conduct her to the 
cave as before. It particularly asked her to come on the day 
of receiving the letter, if possible ; otherwise, the following 
day at the same hour. Elsie was too anxious for another 
visit to delay, and so prepared at once, merely awaiting the 
arrival of her parent before starting. 

‘‘ Elsie, my dear child, I know it is something in which 
you are much interested, or you would not give up our 
garden plan ; but to-morrow will answer just as well for the 
plants. May you have a pleasant journey to the unknown, 
for I suppose it is there.” 

O father, you don’t know how anxious I am to bring 
this secrecy to an end between us. However, I hope some- 
thing will grow out of this visit.” 

The young woman soon reached the same point w^here 
Hiram had been awaiting her before ; but this time no 
Hiram appeared. 

Was she too early, or had the trapper forgotten ? Yet she 
felt certain that the faithful fellow would sooner have waited 


170 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


all day than put her to the inconvenience of waiting ten 
minutes. Presently in the distance she saw some one 
coming, and she sat down on a convenient log to await the 
hunter’s arrival. 

“ It is about the same time as before,” she said to herself, 
looking at her watch ; something must have hindered him. 
But as the traveller appeared, she became doubtful if 
it really was the “Giraffe.” 

“ No, it is not Hiram. Who can it be ? I have surely 
seen that figure before — that firm, strong walk, that rather 
proud bearing.” 

A moment more, and the new^-comer had raised his cap 
in salute, revealing the strong, manly features of the 
energetic stranger, whose skill and courage had proved so 
efficient on the night of the fire. 

“ Miss Hastings,” he said with a smile, but somewhat dif- 
fident air, rather at variance, she thought, with the calm 
self-reliance which had excited her admiration at their 
former interview. She started up impulsively, and offered 
her hand. 

“ How glad I am to have an opportunity at last of thank- 
ing you for your courage and tact in helping us from that 
terrible fire ! My father has long wished to meet you and 
thank you, and so have I.” 

His face glowed with evident pleasure as he grasped 
the extended hand. 

“Believe me. Miss Hastings, no commendation goes so 
far as yours in rewarding me for the little I was able to do 
on that occasion.” 

“I don’t know what we should have all done, if it had not 
been for your self-control and presence of mind. Why 
did you go away so abruptly, and gave no one a chance to 
thank you?” 

“ I will tell you as we go along, for I believe we walk in 
the same direction.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


171 


“ Do we ? ” she said, with a puzzled air ; “ I came here 
to meet a friend,” and here she hesitated, as if in doubt. 

“And are not quite satisfied to take a substitute,” he said, 
anticipating, as it were ; but immediately added : 

“ Oh, no, I do not mean that ; but you would like to know 
by what authority I claim to be a substitute.” 

A new thought struck her. 

“Did you really come here in place of ? ” 

“Hiram,” he supplied quickly with a meaning smile. 
“Yes ; and although I can never hope to equal the gallant 
‘ Giraffe ’ in his manifold accomplishments, yet if Miss Hast- 
ings will trust me, I will do my best to lead her safely to 
her destination.” 

“ But do you know where I am bound for ? ” she asked 
quizzingly. 

“To the cave to see the ‘Exile’ and Nadia and Sophia,” 
he answered promptly, looking at her fixedly, as if to note 
her surprise and the effect of his words. She was indeed 
sui-prised — so much so that for a moment she could not 
find words to respond. 

“ So you know them too. Is it possible ? How strange ! 
I thought they had no acquaintances outside.” 

“ Neither have they, so far as I know, with the welcome 
exception of yourself,” he retmmed, still regarding her Tvfith 
that meaning glance which she could not understand. 

She felt bewildered, almost irritated, like one who has 
lost the way, and still in the darkness gropes painfully for 
the path. All at once a great light burst upon her, and 
her countenance fairly beamed as she uttered, confidently, 
“ Then you must be Mr. Adolph — are you not ? ” 

“I have that honor ; for it is an honor to bear a name so 
kindly remembered by Miss Hastings.” 

“ How glad I am at last to meet one, face to face, to 
whom I am under such obligations ! ” 

“Please don’t use that word — please don’t ; it jars on my 


172 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


feelings painfully. It was the star-pleasure of my life to 
have been able to serve you. But if you can trust me now, 
suppose we move in the direction of the cave.” 

Cheerfully assenting, they moved forward in the direc- 
tion she more than half-remembered ; but, instead of leading 
some distance ahead, her companion walked by her side, 
busy answering her eager questions regarding her rescue 
from the ravine and removal to the cave. 

So absorbed had she been that she was startled when the 
gentleman halted abruptly, saying : “Miss Hastings, you are 
not afraid of the dark, are you? But I know you are not.” 

“ Not a bit. This is the place for the handkerchief, I 
suppose. I don’t mind at all. You know I have been 
through it before.” 

“ I shall not bind your eyes. Miss Hastings, nor exact 
any pledge whatsoever ; we feel quite safe in your hands.” 

“I really think you had better bind my eyes — please do.” 

“ If you really prefer it, I will do so.” 

So saying, a silk bandage was produced and skilfully 
adjusted, and in a few moments she felt that they had 
quitted the upper air and were in the subterranean passage. 

“ Thank fortune, here we are, safe and sound ; and this 
intrusive silk must cloud your bright eyes no longer. Miss 
Hastings,” her companion said as they halted. 

And Elsie found, with the restored sight, the familiar 
surroundings and the pleasant faces of the cave fiiends 
eagerly crowding round to greet her. 

“ Slava Bogu,” said Nadia, while Sophia seized both 
hands of the visitor, saying in pretty fashion, with just a 
shght accent, “ How are you — very good?” 

Elsie kissed the little maiden, and then was wai'mly 
greeted by the venerable master of the underground house : 
“ My daughter, pleasant as the spring to see you again. 
Adolph brought you safely ? ” looking with parental pride 
at the younger man. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


173 


“ Yes, indeed, and I was so glad to meet Mr. Adolpli at 
last, and to have a chance to thank him ! You know how 
much I wanted to see him, and teU him of my gratitude ; ” 
then turning to Adolph, “ You must allow me to ask you 
why you did not come to see me, or put in an appearance 
while I was here so long, or at my last visit.” 

“I will tell you as we are going home,” he said evasively, 
coloring like a boy under her glance. 

Indeed, she noticed the singular combination of confi- 
dence and diffidence, of courage and timidity in the charac- 
ter of this interesting stranger. She had an indefinite 
memory of observing a similar union of traits before, but 
could not quite recall where. She saw at once that Adolph 
was the idol of the cave-circle, and had a contagious good- 
humor that seemed to spread sunshine through the apail;- 
ment. 

Although it was late spring, the great fire still glowed in 
the fire-place ; but the “ Ancient” informed her, in answer 
to her exclamation of surprise at this, that it was necessary 
for ventilation and to keep away dampness. 

“ We keep some fire all summer, and find it verj" pleasant, 
too, in the evenings ; for our cave is much cooler than any 
upperground house, and correspondingly warmer in win- 
ter.” 

“Father has shown the cave-rooms, or at least part of 
them, IVIiss Hastings ; but perhaps you would Iffie to see a 
new chamber which I have cleaned out since you were 
here,” asked Adolph. 

“ Oh, thank you ever so much ; I should, indeed.” 

“It is called the ‘Harper’s Grotto,’” said Adolph who 
led the way, the whole party following as if unwilling to 
lose a moment of the guest’s presence with them. 

It was some little distance from the suite of dwelling 
rooms, and was altogether the handsomest Elsie had yet 
seen, The formations were white as the purest Parian 


174 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


marble, and indeed the first impression on the mind was 
that of a hall of superb statuary. In the centre was a fac- 
simile of an enormous Irish"harp with an ancient harpist, 
whose snowy locks streamed to his shoulders. So superbly 
realistic was this piece of natural statuary in outline that 
the visitor at first could not be persuaded that it was merely 
the work of blind force and accidental arrangement. 

The entire scene was strangely weird and impressive ; 
grand and awe-inciting beyond expression. These wonder- 
working agencies, these unseen sculptors, these invisible 
magicians, what were they, and where were they ? 

Elsie almost momentarily expected to see solemn spectres 
stalk majestically upon the scene out of the dim shady 
vacancy around, with tools and implements of artistic toil 
and begin chiselling and shaping and forming new creations 
of fancy, wild and strange. The room, or haU, or studio, 
whatever it might be called, looked precisely as if the workers 
had been suddenly surprised and had deserted the premises 
in alarm, leaving much unfinished work. Numerous un- 
completed groups stood around, to which fancy soon gave 
shape and meaning — puzzling masses, with curious re- 
semblances, which fantastically changed and varied as the 
spectator moved from point to point. 

There is a peculiar sensation experienced in gazing on the 
singular formations, often met with in large caves, that is 
unique. There is something that at once appeals to the 
latent superstition in the blood w^hen one gazes on these 
marvels, made without hands, in the inner parts of the earth, 
the work of ages and ages in the darkness and slime and 
damp. Blind, dead matter seems to have a purpose, an 
intention, and to be moved by an instinct. It appears to 
be feeling its way toward a higher stage, groping in the 
gloom for something which is suggested and hinted but 
never fully expressed. 

Elsie could have passed hours in this strange place, if 


TJIE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


175 


she might have yielded to the fascination which it exerted 
over her. 

“ Better not remain too long in the damp atmosphere of 
this chamber. When the summer heats have penetrated 
the cave somewhat, and we have arranged a better ventila- 
tion, then come some time and spend as long as you like,” 
said Adolph in a low tone. 

The fire felt pleasant after the chilly air of the other parts 
of the cave, and dinner over, all gathered round for social 
enjoyment and converse with the welcome guest. 

“You expressed great desire, my daughter, that we 
should meet your father, and I promised that I would give 
the matter attention and see if it would be possible ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, that is my dearest wish, if it can be arranged 
some way.” Here she met Adolph’s gaze and colored, she 
hardly knew why, unless it was at the admiration which 
she read in his expressive face. 

“ Yes, Miss Hastings, father and I have considered the 
matter with carefulness, and feel that your father is one of 
us in heart — that we can trust him.” 

“ How kind of you to say so, and I am sure you are not 
mistaken,” and her face glowed with filial pride as she 
spoke. 

Suddenly her eyes rested on the symbohc picture hang- 
ing on the wall, before referred to, and the question she 
had determined to ask the “ Kefugee ” sprang to her lips : 
“ Would you mind explaining to me the meaning of that 
curious picture. I have seen something since that reminded 
me of it.” 

The two Kussians exchanged significant glances. 

“What have you seen, my child? Perhaps I can explain 
it for you.” 

She then told of the discussion relative to the shape of 
the house and the painted wall, and how she had been in- 
duced to change her opinion bj^ the memory of this picture. 


176 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


The father and son exchanged a few sentences in their 
native language, and then the elder, turning to the maiden 
with a pleasant smile, said : “ You are a very intelligent 
young lady. Did you ever hear that one of my country- 
men once owned your place ? ” 

‘‘Yes, I have heard father say so many times, but I 
never thought of it until they began talking about the 
house being in the shape of a dagger, and in a circle, and 
then I remembered about the picture, and the Kussian gen- 
tleman who had built the house, and laid out the grounds, 
and I thought that possibly he might have belonged to the 
order you were telling me about.” 

During her excited, or rather animated, statement — for 
her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone brightly, show- 
ing how interested she felt in the matter — the two, or indeed 
we might say the four, listeners sat earnestly regarding her. 
Nadia and her daughter, of course, could only guess at the 
subject under discussion, or from the few words passed be- 
tween the two gentlemen might have partly understood it, 
but the Kefugee and his son drank in every word with 
eagerness. 

Elsie noticed by their manner that it was a matter which 
awakened profound feelings and stirred up far-reaching 
memories. 

A few more words in Eussian and then Adolph said 
gently, bending toward her : “ Miss Hastings, the original 
owner of your property was a member of our noble band, 
the Brotherhood of the Bed Circle. Yes, and, Slava Bogu, 
in spirit one of us, as ever.” 

This reverential allusion to one who while in the body 
w^as a member of the sacred Circle, and being absent from 
them, still, so the thought came to her, sympathized with 
their work, touched the visitor deeply. She felt strongly 
drawn toward these poor exiles from their native land, and 
a feeling of righteous indignation toward the miel despotign^ 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


177 


which had induced such a sacrifice. In her enthusiasm she 
felt that she would like to be a member of this order and 
help to reheve the oppressed and down-trodden from the 
tyrant’s power. 

“ You say your father sympathizes with us — at least I 
understood you to say so at . our last meeting ?” asked the 
old man, earnestly. 

As before, so now, she noticed that his frame seemed 
really to expand and grow, and his face seemed younger, 
when speaking upon this topic of the national interests and 
the Brotherhood. 

“I know he has always had a warm feeling for your 
country and the oppressed masses there. As a true Ameri- 
can, he holds kings and emperors as worthless figureheads, 
mere relics of a past blind worship of power, and belief in 
ruling by divine right, instead of by the will of the ruled.” 

“ Expensive relics of a past barbarism indeed, but, worse 
than relics, they are engines of oppression and wrong,” re- 
sponded the young man, with kindling features. “ If every 
throne in Europe were by the universal voice declared 
vacant to-morrow, and prompt measures taken to enforce 
the sentiment ; if royalty in every form were buried with 
some other rubbish which we have inherited from the past, 
so deep that it could never be resurrected, what a boon it 
would be to the world.” Pausing a moment, he re- 
sumed : Why should millions and tens of millions of 

people be governed by the arbitrary will of one man, who 
has no more rational claim to exercise such authority than 
that, some time in the remote past, an undeveloped bar- 
barous, or semi-barbarous, people chose one of their num- 
ber to be their leader because he was more strong or capa- 
ble than the others. For the possession of special personal 
qualities he was elected chief or king, and for special pur- 
poses, to lead in war, to guide in council, etc. But in the 
name of the beautiful and just, why should his descendants 
IZ 


178 


THE EHSSIAN REFUGEE. 


have any claim to succeed him ? The father elected for a 
special qualification thinks that his son, an ordinary in- 
dividual, without any peculiar claim to attention, a mere 
nonentity, it may be, ought to succeed him, and that all of 
his lineage are to be henceforth accounted sacred ; and the 
stupid, unreasoning people, after perhaps an unavailing 
protest, agreed to the outrage, and the usurpation became 
‘divine ’ by custom and usage. No man has any right to 
be a leader unless he has the special qualities of leadership, 
and these in excess of all others, and such leadership to be 
contingent on exemplary conduct, and also directly sub- 
ject to the will of the people who gave him the power.” 

Adolph had spoken with much animation and natural 
eloquence, but he suddenly paused and seemed greatly 
vexed at having permitted himself to be thus led into such 
vehement expression of his feelings. “ Forgive me, but I 
really feel so deeply on this point, Miss Hastings. We have 
suffered ; that must be my excuse. I have said too much ; 
will you forgive me ? ” 

And the contrition of the speaker was so genuine that 
one hearer at least was very deeply touched by it, so she 
said, gently, “ Mr. Adolph, if you knew how much interest I 
feel in these matters you would not think it necessary to 
make an apology. I like to hear you on these points, and 
shall be glad if you will speak freely on them.” 

His face kindled at her words and then quickly resumed 
its wonted condition of intelligent repose. It was a 
watching face, quiet and yet never dull or absent in ex- 
pression — the eyes especially, deep hazel, ever on the alert, 
seemed to drink in everything that came within their 
range — a face that noticed everything without at all being 
intrusive or inquisitive. 

“ My daughter, what say you to your father paying us a 
visit? We know how irksome it must have been for you, 
through all these long months, keeping your knowledge of 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


179 


US from your good parent, and so we have decided to ex- 
tend our invitation to him to come and see us in our hum- 
ble abode, if he will so far honor us.” So saying, the patri- 
arch took her hand and looking at her a moment gravely, 
added, ‘‘Will he come?” 

Elsie was so glad that for an instant she did not speak, 
and then with a face glowing with satisfaction she re- 
sponded : “ Surely he will come, and I must thank you cor- 
dially for the invitation. Oh, it will take a burden off my 
mind, for I have“ been much troubled at being obliged to 
keep anything from so good a father as mine is.” 

“ Will your father object, think you, my child, to coming 
in as you have come, with blinded sight, to our under- 
ground home ? ” 

“ I am sure he will not, if it is necessary ; ” and then as 
the possibility of her father objecting to this proceeding 
occurred to her, “ that is, I do not think he will when I have 
explained to him the necessity for it.” 

“You must be told. Miss Hastings, that none but mem- 
bers of the order are permitted to enter by sight into our 
council-rooms. We would, on your father’s, as well as 
your own account, that it were not so, but such is the law, 
from the Grand Synod down to the humblest Circle, govern- 
ing all,” said Adolph by way of explanation. 

“So, I may tell my father everything ; and when shall we 
come to see you ? ” 

“ Yes, you can tell him all you know of us, simply ask- 
ing that he promise you not to reveal, and we feel quite 
safe in his honor. Come when you please.” 

Before leaving, Sophia confided to the young lady that 
Grandfather was giving her a daily lesson in English. “ So 
I can do some talk when you come see me, and he say he 
teach me wTite English too,” said the little maiden, whose 
eyes danced merrily at the thought of being able to know 
all that was said when her friend came, 


180 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


So it was arranged that Elsie was to notify by letter, 
through Hii’am’s agency, when the residents of the Hermit- 
age could make it convenient to visit them. 

On the way home Adolph explained to Elsie why he had 
not appeared during her detention in the cave. “ I could 
not bear to intrude myself upon you, as if I had earned a 
right to your acquaintance by the simple service I had been 
privileged to render you. My father was your physician, 
so it was different with him. I was only a poor Eussian 
and had no right to intrude on the society of a young lady 
like Miss Hastings simply because accident had given me 
an opportunity.” This was uttered with some personal 
pride, which could not escape notice, but at the same time 
with a simple dignity which became the speaker well. 

Elsie replied, earnestly : “You do me wrong if you think 
I should have regarded your presence as an intrusion for 
one moment. How could you think so ? ” 

“ Miss Hastings, I cannot forget the difference in our so- 
cial positions. Ordinarily, as things go, I could never have 
hoped to become acquainted with you. I had seen you 
scores of time, but never dreamed that I should ever be 
permitted to speak with you, our conditions being so very 
different.” 

She made a motion as if to interrupt him, but he went 
on doggedly, as if making a confession which tried him to 
the quick : “I belong to an ostracized class, having no rank 
or social position, or education, I may add, while you are 
wealthy, talented, highly educated, and of a first-class 
family. Can you wonder that I shrank from the task of 
trying to clear away such obstacles to your acquaintance, 
simply because I had by chance found a key that would 
admit me to your presence ? ” 

“ You really distress me by talking this way. If you 
think I value rank, or wealth, or social position, before 
courage and manliness you do not know me, My father 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


181 


and I, believe me, have our own views on these points, and 
they are not those of the world.” Then trying to see his face, 
which was averted, as he seemed to be struggling with some 
deep feeling which prevented his immediate response, she 
continued, cheerfully : “ But I am very glad you took a 

kinder view of the matter, or I should not have had the 
pleasant visit I have so much enjoyed to-day.” 

“ Hiram’s absence necessitated someone taking his place 
to act as your guide, and my father’s express command 
deprived me of all liberty of action in the case. Obedience 
is the foundation law of our order, and also sacred duty in 
Russian family life.” 

“ But you surely do not mean to say that you will avoid 
my presence for the future in obedience to a false feeling ? 
Surely there is no sacred obligation in such obedience as 
that!” 

Deeply agitated, he answered : “ Such was my intention, 
but Miss Hastings’ presence and kindness this day have 
made such a course exceedingly difficult, and yet I feel it 
would be better and safer that I should so absent myself.” 

“ Promise me that you will meet my father and myself 
freely until you know us better, and let the future decide 
matters,” laying her hand upon his arm. “ You saved me 
twice from peril, and you must continue to be my friend, 
and give me an opportunity to show you I am not ungrate- 
ful.” 

The touch and tone conquered him, she saw by the light 
which illuminated his countenance, but it was a full minute 
before he sufficiently controlled his voice to speak, and then 
the words quivered with emotion. “ Obedience to you is 
easy ; nay, disobedience is absolutely impossible. I trem- 
ble while I promise, but I cannot refuse.” Then his mood 
suddenly changing, he drew himself up proudly, “ We Rus- 
sians are a hardy race, and are taught to fear nothing. So 
there, I cast my gauntlet to the future, and dare the Fates 1 ” 


182 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


So saying, he dashed his heavy mountain staff on the 
gi’ound, and stood with folded arms regarding it grimly. 
Then picking it up hastily, he tuimed to his companion 
with a half-apologetic smile, saying, “ ‘ Scratch a Kussian 
and you find a Tartar,’ is an old proverb, and I fear IVIiss 
Hastings will think there is a good deal of the Tartar left 
in me.” 

She looked at him with an expression difficult to define, 
half surprise and half admiration ; he appeared at the mo- 
ment so strong and manly, so fitted to encounter and over- 
come obstacles. “I like some of the Tartar traits, their 
courage, strength, and endurance make a fine basis on which 
to rear the superstructure of a noble manhood.” 

“ Thank you,” he exclaimed, impulsively taking her hand, 
and then dropping it instantly. “ Forgive me, I forgot ; but 
you reconcile me to myself. I, too, would build such a 
character — I, too, would be a man.” 

She held out the hand so abruptly relinquished. “You 
are a man, and I have seen your courage, strength, and 
endurance tested,” she returned gently, with shining eyes, 
looking him frankly in the face. 

Eagerly taking the proffered hand he said impressively, 
“ Then you will help me to build, and I may hope to be 
the rest ? ” 

Dropping her eyes before his ardent gaze she responded, 
sadly, “Alas, I can only encourage and hint; I require 
constant help myself. But,” she added gayly, “ ‘ Let us 
help one another,’ as one of the old songs of childhood 
used to say.” 

So saying she bade him “good-evening,” for her home 
was in sight, and so they parted. 

Elsie rushed to the hbrary hoping to find her father 
there. She felt indeed as if a burden had been taken from 
her shoulders, and the gi’ound become elastic to her tread. 
Ml'. Hastings smiled as she entered and kissed him fondly, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


183 

first on one cheek and then on the other. “ Oh, father, I 
have had such a delightful day, and have such lots to 
tell you.” 

“Indeed you look radiant enough to have found the 
philosopher’s stone, Elsie.” 

“ Something better than the old philosopher’s pebble, 
which if he had found would have been some poor affair 
after all. No, I have found something much better than 
that — some good, kind friends — and I have heard you say 
they were the best jewels in the world.” 

“ So they are. A true friend is the real philosopher’s 
stone, for it is friendship that gilds life and illumines the 
dark places.” 

“ Well, I suppose I must dress for dinner, and after dinner 
we will come here, and I will tell you all the mysteries, so 
that you will know your daughter once more as you used 
to, and good-by to all secrets.” 

Dinner certainly occupied less time than usual that day, 
for one of the diners was too eager to tell, and the other 
hardly less eager to hear, the story which would unravel the 
mystery around Elsie’s movements during the past six 
months. 

As said before, Mr. Hastings’ confidence in his daughter 
was implicit, but yet he had felt keenly the veil of reserve 
which had been between them on this matter since Elsie’s 
accident, and now the prospect of a full explanation and 
clearing up of all the obscurity was very pleasant to him, 
so that he fully sympathized with her impatience to finish 
dinner. 

“ Now, you best of fathers, I must begin at the begin- 
ning and tell everything as it happened,” said the young 
mistress of the mansion, as she arranged her father’s big 
chair for him, and then seated herself in a low arm-chair 
near. 

Graphically she related her experience from the moment 


184 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


when she opened her eyes with returning consciousness in 
the cave, and as she proceeded she was delighted to find 
the listener was fully as much interested in hearing as she 
in telling. She reserved nothing, except perhaps her 
special conversations with Adolph, in which, she naturally 
reasoned, her father would have no peculiar interest. 

And you will go with me, father, and visit the cave ? 
Oh, it is wonderful, and I know you would say it was a 
treat to go there.” 

“ Elsie, what a girl you are, to be sure. Who would have 
dreamed of your having such an experience ? What would 
Mrs. St. Johns say if she could know ? ” said her father, 
standing up and putting his hands on her shoulders. “ To 
think of my daughter havings such an adventure all alone, 
and among Russian Socialists — sanguinary fellows, with 
daggers and crosses, and red circles and assassinations, and 
I don’t know what else. I believe you ought to have been 
a boy. AVell, well, well ! ” Here he w^alked up and down 
the room laughing heartily. 

“ But they are the nicest people in the world, father, and 
not in the least sanguinary looking or acting.” 

“ Especially Rudolphe,” said her father, meaningly. 

“ There is no Rudolphe,” she retorted. 

‘‘ Oh no, Adolph ; yes, that was the name, was it not — a 
sort of Chevalier Bayard, sans peur et sans reproche ; eh, 
Elsie?” 

She blushed in spite of herself, but answered gayly : 
“ Yes, sir, he is, and you would say so too if you saw him ; 
but you have seen him, for I quite forgot to say that it 
was Mr. Adolph that helped us out of the fire that night at 
the court-house.” 

“ What ! that brave young man ! Is it possible? Then I 
shall form the acquaintance of Mr. Adolph with much 
pleasure. I should like to thank him.” 

Mr. Hastings, after hearing his daughter’s story had ex- 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


185 


perienced some internal vexation at the acquaintance she 
had apparently formed with Adolph, especially when in 
answer to his question she informed him that he had ac- 
companied her home from the cave. It was that natural 
shrinking from the possibility which always looms up in the 
distance, of the cherished one straying into other pastures, 
and leaving the home-circle desolate. To one situated as 
klr. Hastings — a widower with one child, and that a daugh- 
ter, who was in a large sense his life — the mere possibility, be 
it ever so remote, of parting with her to another man, even 
if that other should be unexceptionable and the chosen of 
her heart, was torture to contemplate. And now, outside of 
his knowledge, she had met, in more or less intimate associa- 
tion, one who, although socially living in a totally different 
sphere, and by her own acknowledgment of very limited 
education and of a different race, had evidently impressed 
her profoundly. 

The proprietor of the Hermitage was not in the ordinary 
sense a purse-proud or aristocratic man. On the con- 
trary, he was peculiarly democratic in his sentiments and 
tastes ; but he had some of the Anglo-Saxon aversion to for- 
eign blood, and although he despised himself for the feel- 
ing, yet fight against it as he would, the prejudice would 
spring up strongly every now and again. 

Gratitude was a prominent virtue in him, as in his daugh- 
ter, and as it is indeed in all noble minds, and he felt under 
the deepest obligation to these Russians for what they had 
so generously and bravely done for his child ; and to be able 
to reward them in some substantial manner would have de- 
lighted him, but somehow he shrunk from close and inti- 
mate association with them. Yet he could not deny to him- 
self that if Adolph was not there to complicate matters as 
the strong, brave, manly fellow which he certainly must be, 
or if he was the husband of Nadia, or transformed somehow, 
he would enjoy meeting these exiles — could sympathize 


186 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


heartily with them, and no thought of social position or 
foreign blood would enter his mind for a moment. But 
after a brief struggle with himself, his better nature gained 
the ascendency, and he wisely resolved not to meet troubles 
prematurely, but trust the future and the strong common- 
sense of his Elsie. 

“ We indeed are under infinite obligations to these Kus- 
sians, and I shall be impatient until I form their acquaint- 
ance,” he remarked cheerfully to his daughter, some time 
after the disclosure. “ I am greatly relieved to find matters 
have been so simple and straightforward, although it is 
remarkable that such people under such peculiar circum- 
stances could have existed in our very midst, and no one 
know anything about it, and more strange stiU that my 
daughter should be the instrument of bringing them to 
light.” 

“ Not exactly bringing them to light, father ; for the 
matter remains sacred between us two until such time as it 
may be publicly known without prejudice to the safety of 
these friends.” 

“ Certainly, it is sacred with me, ^although I do not think 
there is the slightest danger after the lapse of so many 
years. Still it is, of course, best to be on the safe side.” 

“Father, suppose we go next Wednesday ; we have noth- 
ing especial on hand for that day, and the Thompsons and 
cousin Warren may return at the end of next week, so we 
ought to go before they come. If you say so, I will leave 
word with Gretchen for next Wednesday.” 

“And must we be blindfolded to be admitted — I really 
don't like the idea of that?” asked her father, with some 
shrinking from that part of the proceeding. 

“ Of course, father. Why, there’s nothing in that ; I told 
you that the Patriarch said that no one not a member of the 
order could be admitted any other way.” 

“ Oh, well, I must not mind if you do not. But Hiram 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


187 


must be a member of the order, then. The sly fellow, how 
quiet he has kept things ! Well, Elsie, say Wednesday, then. 
I am in your hands in this matter, my dear ; do with me as 
you please.” 

That afternoon Elsie rode over to the trapper’s cottage, 
and G;yq) seemed to enjoy the trip as much as she did. It was 
a splendid black animal with a perfect head, and had been 
specially trained for her use. She found the good Dutch 
woman at home, as indeed she always was, except a very 
occasional visit to the Hermitage, or her sister’s in MelviUe. 

“ Ach, mine Gott ! an Mese Hastings come to see Gretchen. 
Und how is Mese Elsie dis morgan ? I shoost was tinking 
mit you, and here you be come already.” 

Elsie followed the bustling little woman into the cottage, 
which was almost covered with the varied creeping plants 
which the industrious Teuton had carefully trained up the 
stone walls. 

“ Why, Gretchen, your cottage looks beautiful, and when 
these flowers come out later in the season it will be the 
prettiest place around.” 

Gretchen was delighted with this praise ; for she was very 
proud of her little home, wdiich indeed was admirably kept, 
and as neat inside as it was attractive out. 

“ Mese Elsie, Hans mein boy was to see his old mudder 
last nacht, und he is one fine feller, und he no treat any 
more. Yar yar, Meester Hastings, he know how to fix mit 
Hans ; ” and the fat, good-humored mother of Hans laughed 
until the tears rolled down her plump cheeks. 

Elsie was rather puzzled to know how to communicate 
her message to the jovial woman so as to not excite awk- 
ward questions ; for she was well aware that Gretchen was 
credited with having no inconsiderable share of that curi- 
osity which is said to be characteristic of a part of the race. 
But she reasoned that in the nature of things, and judging 
by the familiar way in which the cave-dwellers spoke of 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


!§?> 

her, the worthy cottager must know a good deal about 
matters, and probably knew the inmates of the underground 
residence. 

“ Gretchen, I have a letter which I was asked to leave 
with you. It is for the gentleman who wrote the one you 
brought me on Monday.” 

Gretchen glanced up with a comical intelligence, and 
laughed again merrily. “Ach, yes, it’s for the old, old 
man. All goot, he have it soon. Meester Adolph he say 
he call mit some rabbits for me dis very day. You know 
Meester Adolph, ^One fine man, one very goot man ; a 
fine feller, Meester Adolph — yet.” 

Elsie felt her cheeks burn at the thought of his finding 
her here. It would be a httle awkward, certainly. She 
must hasten her departure. But just then a step was heard 
outside, and a knock at the door. 

“ Coome in ; ” and in response to Gretchen’s words the 
door was opened, and a robust form clad in a hunting-suit, 
and carrying a pair of rabbits in his right hand, entered the 
room. 

“ I had the good foidune, Gretchen, to find these in my 
new trap ; ” and then catching sight of the young lady, the 
speaker starting violently removed his cap abruptly, and 
stammered out an apology : “ O Miss Hastings, forgive me ! 
I did not know you were here.” 

“I just came over to see Gretchen and leave a note,” 
Elsie said pleasantly, rising and holding out her hand 
frankly. “ I am sure Gretchen will be glad to have such a 
nice present.” 

Taking her hand gratefully the huntsman seated himself, 
and soon the three were carrying on an animated conversa- 
tion. 

Gretchen at once handed the last comer the letter which 
Elsie had given her, and this action at once removed any 
restraint, as showing that the trapper’s wife was one of the 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


189 


knowing ones, and the conversation gradually drifted to 
the cave and its inhabitants. 

Gretchen mentioned them all by name, but Elsie could 
not decide whether she had ever been in the secret home or 
not, and so was somewhat guarded in her utterances, but 
she soon noticed that Adolph preserved no such reticence. 

“ Gretchen is our very faithful friend and knows us all,” 
he said, in answer to Elsie’s look of caution at one of his 
remarks; “don’t you, Gretchen?” 

“Yah, yah, und Sophia is mein own child — mein own 
leetle one,” giving sundiy hints that when that young 
maiden entered cave life, some fourteen years before, that 
she had been present and acted the part of “ wise woman ” 
on the occasion. 

“ The letter is addressed to ‘ my friend in the cave,’ and 
I need hardly ask who it is for, and so must not open it, yet 
I would fain claim that title too ; perhaps you will teach me 
how ? ” the huntsman said, gently, regarding her \ristfully. 

“ Oh, how can you talk so. I thought Russians were al- 
ways frank and candid. You know that I esteem you as a 
friend who has proved to be a friend indeed.” 

Again that look of distress which she had noticed before 
whenever she alluded to her obligation to him. 

“ I am sure Miss Hastings would not willingly wound 
anyone, but she does hurt me when she speaks of obliga- 
tion to me.” 

“ Then I will call you my friend, if you will let me, and 
not allude to your kind deeds as proving friendship.” 

“ I shall be so grateful if you will try and forget.” 

“No, I shall never forget, but I will try to avoid put- 
ting the memory in words. But about the letter ; you may 
as well read it.” 

“ I would rather you would tell me the contents — I mean 
the inside,” hesitating as if a little doubtful of the other 
word ; “but,” he added, nervously, as if fearful she might 


190 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


misconstrue his meaning, “ I can read in English well, al- 
though not such a scholar as my father is in this fine, strong 
language.” 

So Elsie told him what she had written, and he seemed 
greatly pleased that she and her father had decided to visit 
the cave so soon. 

“I must be going,” said Elsie, rising, after a few more 
moments of conversation in relation to the proposed visit 
of the coming week. 

“May I accompany you to the cross-roads, that is, if you 
do not desire to ride fast ? ” 

“ Certainly, if you are going that way,” returned Elsie, as 
he assisted her to mount. 

“ Good-by, Gretchen. I hope Hiram will soon be home, 
for you must be pretty lonely out here by yourself.” 

“Ach, dat Hiram, he forgot Gretchen, and tooken mit 
anoder voman,” laughed the jovial creature. “ Yah, yah, 
und den he get one frau long so big,” holding her hand as 
high as she could, “ und she step long, und Hiram he feel 
goot. He say, mein Giraffe, ‘ Gretchen no walk mit him 
one bit yah, he get anoder frau already.” 

“No, indeed, Gretchen ; no one could suit him as well 
as you, and teU him I said so,” rejoined Elsie, as she rode 
off, leaving the happy-looking woman standing amid her 
flowers, the very picture of content. 

The vigorous mountaineer strode alongside, easily keep- 
ing pace with the active Gyp, who rather chafed at being 
restrained to a walk instead of being allowed his own gait, 
which his young mistress, as a rule, freely accorded to him. 

“ I greatly fear. Miss Hastings, that I must at times, on 
account of my ignorance of society rules and usages, appear 
coarse and rude to you, which gives me much vexation. I 
am glad of an opportunity to mention this so that you may 
not misjudge me and think I am intentionally careless.” 

“ You have never been either rude or careless since I 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


191 


have known you, Mr. Adolph, and, I assure you, that it will 
please me much more if you will act out your natural im- 
pulses and trust me frankly. I believe you to be a gen- 
tleman who can trust his instincts for the right, so prom- 
ise me that you will dismiss such thoughts forever. My 
father and I shall like you much better if you are simply 
yourself. Ordinary society men I despise, and I am glad 
you are not one.” 

She felt rather flushed at making such a long speech to 
him, but she had observed with concern the peculiar dif- 
fidence which this strong, natural man, whose bearing was 
really winning and courteous because it was the outcome 
of a sympathetic and generous nature, manifested in her 
presence, and his words now gave her the clew to this con- 
dition. Her reply seemed to inspire him. 

“You, indeed, are kind so to encourage me. How I re- 
gret my limited social opportunities and my inferior edu- 
cation, but my life has been a very singular one. Society 
I could not have, on account of my father’s forced conceal- 
ment, without attracting an attention which might have 
been awkward, and arousing a curiosity which might have 
imperilled those nearest and dearest to me. So I have had 
to satisfy myself from the dawn of manhood with such 
pleasures as hunting and the study of nature afforded me.” 

She listened closely, and her face told him how keenly 
she appreciated what he said, and sympathized with the 
difiiculties of his lot. At times words seem impertinent 
and out of place, and he so thoroughly understood all that 
she meant, that verbal expression was not asked or ex- 
pected. 

“ I have determined to break these bonds which so cur- 
tail my liberty and keep me tied to the clod, when I would 
fain soar to the altitudes which it seems to me must ever 
beckon the earnest spirit. I am a Russian by race, it is 
true, but by long residence, by sympathy, and by the other 


192 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


ten thousand influences which breathe in the air, glisten in 
the light, and spring up from the very soil I tread, as well 
as those wafted in to me from republican institutions, I am 
an American, heart and soul an American.” 

She spoke now, and eagerly, for his last words thrilled 
and stimulated her into speech. 

“ How glad I am to hear you say that. It would seem to 
me as if anyone escaping the limitations and crushing disa- 
bilities of the Old World, must indeed be like a bird escaped 
from prison. Your dear father, whom I can never thank 
enough for his unremitting kindness to me, is, too, an 
American at heart, though still bound by strong ties to his 
native land.” 

“He is, as you say, an American at heart, but not in 
the sense that I am, who have grown up amid her institu- 
tions, although debarred from deriving full benefit from 
them. But do not suppose,” and here he spoke eagerly, 
“that I am in any sense less a Kussian patriot. No, I 
love the land of my fathers, but I despise her government 
and institutions. But a better day will soon dawn, and 
Columbia will be able, in a not remote future, to salute a 
sister KepubHc, purged and purified from the hideous evils 
which now infest the body politic, moving foiward in the 
pathway of progress under a Eussian flag.” 

His face shone as if with the light of prophecy, and he 
looked eastward as if he ah’eady saw the star of promise 
rising above the horizon. 

“ A glorious hope,” rejoined his companion ; “ and if all 
her sons had your faith and your ardent love of liberty, 
Eussia might have the dream realized in a month.” 

“ Here are the cross-roads, and I suppose we must part. 
Thank you for this interview. Do you know,” and here his 
voice became so low as to be just audible, “ that every 
Eussian at birth is supposed to have an angel or good 
spirit appointed to watch over and direct him ? I often 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


193 


think this must have been forgotten when I reached earth, 
or else the sweet spirit forsook me soon afterward in de- 
spair. Will you be my angel, and guide and inspire me to 
better things, so that I can move upward and forward in- 
stead of downward and backward ? ” 

His tone was half jocular, but the pleading, almost ap- 
pealing, look in the eyes showed how intense was the feel- 
ing which had inspired the request. 

“Your good angel has never forsaken you ; it is treason 
to her to speak so.” But seeing that same look demanding 
a different answer, she continued : “ I sadly need a good 
angel myself, and could hardly be such to you or anyone, 
but I will promise as far as possible to try and arouse your 
angel when she seems to slumber.” 

“ Then henceforth she will wear your form and be in- 
spired with your spirit, and so my sun will always be in 
the heavens. Adieu ! ” and, dropping his hand from Gyp’s 
silky mane, he raised his cap and stepped aside, as the steed 
sprang joyfully forward at a canter. 

Elsie’s thoughts were in rather a tangled state as she 
speeded along the highway. She was not quite sure that 
she had fully understood this interesting foreigner, and 
uncertain as to the sense in which he understood her an- 
swer. Visions of Mrs. St. Johns’ reproving face came before 
and framed themselves in the shrubbery on either side of 
the avenue as she rode up to the house, and she almost 
fancied she could hear the “ How incautious, how very in- 
cautious, my dear,” as coming from the fashionable dame. 

13 


CHAPTER XVL 


“A MAN’S A MAN FOR A’ THAT.” 

Do coming events cast tlieir shadows before, and does a 
subtle influence from the unseen come to us to of 

their neighborhood ? 

Elsie started with almost superstitious dread, when, on 
reining sharply up at the platform, Mrs. St. Johns stood 
before her. She at first doubted her vision, but the voice 
dissipated all doubts. 

“My darling Elsie, how charming you do look. Roland, 
help IVIiss Hastings to dismount.” 

That 3"oung man did not require the hint, for he had 
sprung forward with eagerness as soon as the horse 
stopped. 

Fond of her friends as she was, and hospitable in all her 
instincts, yet the young mistress of the mansion could not 
repress a feeling akin to annoyance at finding the new 
guests. The thought of the engagement she had just made 
for the visit to the cave with her father, and the possibility 
that it might be interfered with by the new arrivals, vexed 
her for the moment exceedingly ; so much so, indeed, 
that she found it difficult to respond with her usual warmth 
to the greeting of the city lady and her young people. Her 
father, who came out a moment later, half suspecting the 
possibility of this feeling on the part of his daughter, and 
knowing how her heart was set upon the Wednesday trip, 
took an early opportunity of whispering to her : “ We will 
manage things somehow, don’t be discouraged.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 195 

These words helped her to throw off the temporary de- 
pression, and her usual cordiality at once returned. 

“I did not give you any warning, my dear, although 
Ruskin urged me to, for I told him that in the country, 
people are never put out by guests — so different from the 
city, you know.” 

“ City or country, mamma,” said Alfarina, “ it is no light 
matter to have a regiment quartered on you without pre- 
vious notice.” 

“ Where did you pick up such horrid military terms,” 
said the languid Angelina, looking amazed that anyone 
should compare the St. Johns family to a regiment, while 
her mother regarded her younger daughter with well-bred 
surprise. 

Elsie hastened to say : “ It was not really necessary, Alf, 
to send us notice, for we have a large house, and are always 
ready and glad to receive our friends.” 

“There, Alfarina, that is a complete refutation of your 
opinion, and a fitting answer to youi', I must say, rather 
coarse remark,” Roland took the opportunity to pay off 
some old scores by remarking. 

The young woman who had thus inadvertently or de- 
signedly incurred so much censure, merely gave her brother 
a look which plainly said, “ I’ll settle with you, sir, for this 
some other time,” and he well knew that she would. 

Roland asked Elsie if she had been gardening, and on 
receiving a reply in the affirmative, begged her to allow him 
to see her garden. She cheerfully agreed, and asked if his 
sisters would not like to go too. Alf at once rose with a 
pleased “ Oh, yes, I should indeed,” but a warning look in 
her mother’s eyes induced her to resume her seat. 

“ I had rather they would not go out in the sun at this 
time of day, especially after travelling.” So Roland and 
the young hostess went alone. As it was almost sundown, 
Elsie could not understand the objection to the Misses St. 


196 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Johns going out, but the astute mother had plans of her 
own to forward, and her daughters remained in the house. 

“ Why, mamma,” said Alf, reproachfully, when the others 
were gone, “ how could you say you didn’t want us to go 
out at this time of day, when it is sunset and the most 
pleasant time of the day ? 

“ Because, Alf, I wish your .brother and Elsie to become 
better acquainted with each other ; and I hope you will see 
the wisdom of this, and so give them opportunity. I wish 
Elsie had a little more city polish, but she is an admirable 
young lady, and will have a most excellent influence over 
Boland. And this is one of the finest properties in the 
country,” she added, significantly. 

“ Whew ! ” said the incorrigible Alf. “ A match-making 
mamma. Now I understand it,” and the young lady buried 
her face in her handkerchief to hide her merriment. 

“ Alf, if you cannot control this unseemly mirth and re- 
strain yourself from such uncalled-for and rude remarks, 
you had better retire to your room. In fact, I shall peremp- 
torily insist upon it, if I hear any more language like that.” 

Mrs. St. Johns, although rather affected and even frivolous, 
as might be expected from such a devotee of fashion, never- 
theless had in her owm way a great deal of latent deter- 
mination, and her family, including her husband, knew 
that when mamma had decided upon anything, she would 
accomplish it if possible, and so all had gradually learned 
to accept her ultimatum and submit to her wishes. Alf 
was the only one who ever offered any serious show of resis- 
tance, for her native honesty repudiated and rebelled against 
many of the subterfuges and wirepullings which she saw 
so common in the world of fashion, and which her politic 
mother had not the slightest scruple in resorting to, to gain 
certain desired ends. Naturally, the younger daughter, 
under similar training w'ould have developed a character 
somew'hat like Elsie’s, for whose frankness and honesty she 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


197 


had a profound admiration. Somewhat like, we say, but yet 
lacking Miss Hastings’s earnestness and strength ; for Alf, 
although quick and alert to perceive inconsistency and 
deviations from the strict path of candor and rectitude, yet 
lacked persistence to carry out her best impulses and to 
persevere against popular wrongs. Whereas Elsie had the 
spirit of a mediseval martyr, and would have only gained 
strength from opposition. 

Alf St. Johns was sincerely attached to her brother, al- 
though she lashed him so often by her sarcasm, and nothing 
would have pleased her better than to have seen the young 
exquisite united to her friend of the Hermitage ; but her 
sense of the incongruousness of such a union was too 
much for any other feeling to gain the ascendency. 

“ Why, the very idea of such a noble, straightforward, sin- 
cere girl as Elsie marrying such a tailor-made specimen of 
humanity as Roland, is simply absurd. Madam mamma 
won’t find she is so omnipotent as she thinks,” she exclaimed 
to her sister when they were alone. 

‘‘ For shame, Alf, to talk of your brother so. I am sure 
there are very few young men can compare with Roland in 
society. The only thing that surprises me is that he can 
fancy such a girl as Elsie — so unfashionable, so mannish 
in her ways and manners. Very few gentlemen, and Rol- 
and is a gentleman, would care for a country girl to preside 
over their establishment.” 

“ Pretty good, Angy. But he would be a lucky fellow if 
he could get her, and he knows it too. Why, she would be 
the making of him. But there’s no fear, Elsie will look for 
very different game.” 

“ Slang again ! I really wish you would not use such ex- 
pressions. I cannot tell where you picked them up ! ” said 
the elder sister, who in the mother’s absence thought it her 
duty to act as mentor to her junior. 

‘‘It’s not slang — my, how particular you are. I heard 


198 


THE PwUSSIAN REFUOEE. 


father use that very expression last week/’ returned Alf, 
who, while somewhat in awe of her mother, never hesitated 
to hold her own against her sister or brother. 

The young man soon showed that his thoughts were not 
especially running on flowers, for when fairly out of the 
house he asked his companion, “ Miss Elsie, how do the 
sprained ankle acquaintances get on. When did you see 
them last ? ” 

This was uttered in a matter-of-fact, careless way, but 
Elsie noticed that the eager curiosity in her companion’s 
face did not quite consort with the tone of indifference. 
She suspected that Eoland had heard something, or sus- 
pected something, and was trying to entrap her into admis- 
sions, and so she answered guardedly. 

“ Indeed, my ankle has grown so strong again that I al- 
most forget the accident sometimes, but so far as I know, 
the people you refer to are well.” 

“ So far as you know ! Why, I’ll venture my riding- whip, 
and you know it’s a very nobby one, against a pair of gloves, 
that you have been to see these persons a dozen times, at 
least, since I saw you last. Oh, you sly one ! ” and the 
young gentleman held up his left hand and shook it re- 
proachfully at his companion. 

That w’hite hand with the handsome ring, how w'eU it 
looked, thought the owner ; but Elsie could not help think- 
ing how different the shapely member looked from the 
strong, brown, manly hand which had held her bridle- 
rein an hour or so before. 

“ A dozen times ! what a statement ; why, you must think 
I have nothing whatever to do but ride about the coun- 
try.” 

“No, but it is pretty hard to keep a feUow in suspense 
so long. Come now, Elsie, be frank with an old friend, 
and tell me all about it. I promise you, on my honor, I 
won’t tell a soul without your permission. It mightn’t be 


THE KXJSSIAN REFUGEE. 


199 


prudent to tell mother or the girls, for women will talk ; 
but it’s quite different with me. Just tell me all about it 
now, won’t you ? ” 

Here Koland put on his most fascinating and irresistible 
expression, which he firmly believed no woman, at least 
no city girl, could resist. But Elsie wasn’t a city girl, and 
she only laughed in a provoking way. 

“So you think women will talk, do you ? I wonder what 
Alf would say to that. Well, there must be an exception 
to prove your rule, so I’ll be that exception and not talk — 
about that subject. How do you like my flowers? ” 

At the allusion to Alf, Koland looked rather alarmed, 
and instead of answ’ering the last query, he pleaded earn- 
estly. “ Don’t you tell Alf what I said ; and I didn’t mean 
you anyway, you are so different from other women, have 
more sense, and I can always depend on what you say,” and 
here the exquisite looked quite manly as he bent on his 
companion a look of ardent admiration. 

“ Now, you know I think the world of you, Elsie.” 

It was only on rare occasions, when alone, that the 
young gentleman called her by her first name, although the 
families had been so intimate for years that he was quite 
justified in doing so, as she very often called him Koland ; 
but his fastidious notions never allowed him to do this in 
public, or wEen, indeed, anyone else was present. “ It w^as 
not in good form,” to use his expression, “ too much like 
those country fellows, you know.” 

“I am very glad you have such a good opinion of me, 
Roland,” said Elsie, simply. “ I hope I shall always deserve 
it, but if you are tired of the flowers, suppose we return 
to the house.” 

“ Oh, do stay a little longer ; it is more pleasant out 
here.” 

“I think we had better go in, as I am hostess, you re- 
member, and must see to the comfort of my guests.” 


200 


THE KirSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Certainly, but it is provoking that you cannot stay out 
a while longer ; it is so awfully jolly out here this evening, 
and I have so many things to talk with you about.” 

But in they went, and found the ladies had retired to 
dress for dinner, which was almost ready. Elsie met her 
father for a minute in the library before the guests came 
down, and immediately spoke on the subject most interest- 
ing to her at the time. 

“ Oh, father, how provoking, and I have made all the ai - 
rangements for Wednesday. What shall we do ? ” 

“ It could be postponed, I suppose — I mean the visit to 
the cave — if absolutely necessary ; but some plan may occur 
to me whereby we can cai’ry out our design without infring- 
ing on the law^s of hospitality.” 

At dinner Mrs. St. Johns arranged that her son should 
sit at Elsie’s right hand, and, acting under previous instruc- 
tions, he plied her with attentions. The hour passed quite 
pleasantly, for the matron was an excellent conversationahst 
when she pleased, and the host fuUy seconded her efforts 
in this direction. 

“ I am so glad to know that your cousin Warren is back, 
and, I understand, is quite smitten with one of those Eng- 
lish girls ; at least a friend who saw them at Niagara told 
me that Warren was acting quite lover-like,” said Mrs. St. 
Johns, at the same time watching Elsie’s face keenly. 

“ The family were very kind to Warren in England, and 
I am glad he is travelling with them. I think it must be 
a little awkward for strangers travelling in this country at 
first, everything is so different,” replied Elsie, quietly. 

Mrs. St. Johns went on to tell of a friend of hers who 
had, a few months before, married his first-cousin, and in- 
veighed severely against the custom. “Why, the Prayer 
Book distinctly forbids it ; it is terribly wrong, almost as 
bad as brother and sister.” 

The good lady was, as Elsie knew, a strict Episcopalian, 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


201 


and so with her the Prayer Book was paramount authority. 
But the young hostess responded calmly as before. 

“ Not quite so bad as that surely, Mrs. St. Johns ; and as 
for the Prayer Book, I am afraid very few accept its author- 
ity as you do. But there are many reasons why it is better, 
perhaps, that cousins should not marry.” 

“ I was sure that you would agree with me, Elsie ; I re- 
gard it almost as a crime. Don’t you look at it that way, 
IVIi*. Hastings ? ” 

“No,” replied the gentleman, smiling, “I cannot say that 
I agree with you fully. As a rule, for physiological reasons 
first-cousins should not marry. Yet, if both parties are 
strong and healthy, and with a good family history on both 
sides, and sincerely attached to each other — why, I fail to 
see any serious objection to such a match.” 

“ But the Bible and Prayer Book both forbid it. It is a 
sin against God,” urged the city lady, warmly. 

“ I do not think it is forbidden in the Scriptures, and as 
to the Prayer Book, I hardly think the seventeenth century 
was capable "^jf teaching what the nineteenth century 
should, or should not, do. I regard it as lying more in the 
province of the physiologist than in that of. the moralist or 
theologian. However, in most cases I object to it, but on 
purely physical grounds.” 

Mrs. St. Johns was fain to be content with this partial 
agreement with her views, even if based upon totally differ- 
ent premises. Having been somewhat suspicious that War- 
ren Seaman had something more than a cousinly regard for 
Elsie, she wished to ascertain how father and daughter 
stood in reference to this question of alliances between re- 
lations. She concluded that she need not fear the cousin 
as a rival to her fastidious son, and so breathed more easily. 
Boland, she fondly believed, was worthy of a duchess at 
least, but then duchesses are not numerous in this demo- 
cratic country, and then, too, she should seriously object to 


202 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


the wife taking precedence in rank or title of her darling 
boy ; and so she decided Elsie, being an heiress and withal 
a bright handsome girl, would be the next best. She 
mourned, as before intimated, the young lady’s lack of 
fashion, but felt sure that could be mended after marriage 
under the efficient mother-in-law control that she intended 
she should have. So the politic lady laid out her plans for 
the matrimonial campaign which should result in making 
Koland and Elsie one flesh. 

To Elsie’s great relief, on Tuesday morning Mrs. St. Johns 
declared that she must pay a visit to a married schoolmate of 
hers living in H., some twenty miles from the Hermitage. 

“ Well, if Koland can drive, and wishes, I can let you 
have the horses, and you can go by the road to-morrow 
instead of by the train,” said the host, glancing comically 
at his daughter. 

“ But you don’t drive, do you, Koland ? ” said Elsie, in 
a tone which rather piqued the young man. 

“ Oh, no, Koland is not accustomed to horses,” said his 
mother, anxiously ; “ and besides, there is no hurry for a 
few days.” 

“Indeed, I have had more experience in driving than 
you give me credit for ; and, if Mr. Hastings wiU kindly 
trust his horses to me, I will drive you with pleasure,” 
said the young gentleman, loftily. 

“Well, I will give orders to have the carnage ready for 
you at eight to-morrow morning. John, wffio is very handy, 
will go along to take care of the team in town, and relieve 
Koland if he wishes. 

“Of course IMiss Hastings will accompany us,” said 
Koland, who wished an opportunity to display before her 
the horsemanship which she had doubted. 

“Not this time,” said Elsie, rather anxiously ; “ you 
know I am not acquainted with Mrs. Kogers, and then 
the carriage only holds four besides John.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


203 


Roland pouted somewhat at this, but the arrangement 
was made, although Alf and Angie both offered to remain if 
Elsie wished to go ; but the offer was persistently declined 
for very good reasons. Indeed, as the time for the cave- 
visit approached, she had become very nervous for fear that 
the trip must be abandoned. . Yet she thought her father 
would find some way out of the difficulty, and this pro- 
posed expedition to H. just answered the purpose. 

Wednesday morning opened bright and lovely. Every- 
thing seemed bursting with life, and dead or inert matter 
appeared to shrink from sight under nature’s widespread 
robes of living glory. Life, life, everywhere the vital prin- 
ciple showed joyfully triumphant over decay and death. 
This tremendous force behind the phenomena of being, 
working so ceaselessly, so resistlessly pushing and stimu- 
lating myriad material things, dull and motionless, into 
marvellous forms of activity and beauty — what is it ? 

“ Goodby — a very pleasant journey and visit. We meet 
at dinner this evening at seven. Roland, better watch that 
off-horse. He is a little skittish sometimes,” were Mr. 
Hastings’ last words as the St. Johns party drove away. 

I wouldn’t dare to trust that young man with those 
horses if John Avas not along ; but John, young as he is, is 
one of the best drivers in the country,” he said to Elsie. 

In about an hour, the father and daughter were on their 
way to the cave, walking briskly in the cool morning air. 

“How fortunate that Mrs. St. Johns should have thought 
of that visit to H.! I was truly in a quandary to know what 
to do, and I would not have disappointed our friends in the 
cave for the world,” Elsie said, her face glowing with the 
exercise, and the feeling of relief she experienced at the 
way matters had shaped themselves. Her father smiled at 
her curiously. 

“I am afraid our guest would not have thought of this 
visit, if it had not been urged upon her.” 


^204 


THE EUSSIAT^ REFUGEE. 


“ Urged upon her by whom — you, father ? ” returned his 
daughter, in sui'prise. 

“ Oh, no. We have to thank French adroitness for 
this.” 

“ Mrs. Wagram — why, how did she know anything about 
it ? ” exclaimed his hearer in amazement. 

“ From acts or words she drew the conclusion that you 
wanted to-day free, for some purpose or other, and so 
she asked me about it. I told her in a general way that 
we had formed a plan for to-day, but perhaps it would 
have to be abandoned on account of our guests. How she 
accomplished it, I do not know ; but the next thing was that 
Mrs. St. John was possessed with the idea of visiting H. 
You know Mrs. AYagram used to live there at one time.” 

“ Then this service is a sort of peace-offering ; for .she 
feels dreadfully about that robbery, and is afraid you hold 
her accountable, although I have assured her again and 
again that such is not the case.” 

“No, my dear ; for though I certainly feel that she broke 
faith in being away from the house that night, yet I am 
certain that she could not have hindered the burglary had 
she been there.” 

Stepping from behind a large oak-tree, cap in hand, the 
Eussian, Adolph, stood in their path, followed at a brief 
distance by Hiram. It was about the same locality as he 
had met Elsie in before. His well-knit, muscular figure 
showed to advantage in the close-fitting hunting dress ; and 
his frank, yet rather retiring manner made a good impres- 
sion on Mr. Hastings, to whom Elsie introduced him. She 
had at once given him her hand, which he took diffidently, 
glancing at her parent as if doubtful whether the gentle- 
man would sanction an appearance of intimacy with his 
daughter. In truth, the father did wince slightly on see- 
ing the stranger and his child on apparently such good 
terms ; but it was only a passing emotion, which his better 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


205 


nature controlled at once. Giving his hand cordially to 
the huntsman, he said pleasantly : “I have long wanted, Mr. 
Adolph, to meet and thank both your father and yourself 
for the kindness you showed my daughter when she met 
with that terrible accident last fall.” 

The face of the foreigner was a curious study of con- 
flicting expressions while Mr. Hastings was speaking. 
First, a delighted surprise and appearance of intense relief 
swept over it, succeeded at once by a flush of painful con- 
fusion, accompanied by a deprecating gesture of his hand. 
It was only an instant, however, before he recovered his 
habitual strong self-control, and answered : 

To meet you, Mr. Hastings, is a pleasure long looked 
forward to. To hear you speak such friendly words is 
more than I deserve.” 

“ Hiram, where have you been all this time ? ” said Mr. 
Hastings. “ In meeting new friends, we must not forget 
old ones.” 

“The Giraffe ” came forward from the shadow of the tree 
where he had been standing, while his companion was be- 
ing introduced to the proprietor of the Hermitage. 

“ Friend Alf, I hev been to visit me old mother, that 
lives in ’ Netticut. Durn your butes, Hiram, says I, the ole 
woman’s getting on, says I, past ninety, says I, an’ I’m durned 
if I don’t leave Gretchen to care fur the ranch an’ scoot for 
' Netticut.” 

“ Now, Hiram, why didn’t you let me know you were go- 
ing to see your mother, and I would have sent her a pre- 
sent ? I should have liked to, ever so much,” said Elsie. 

The eyes of the trapper shone brightly as she spoke. 

“ Bless yer good heart. Miss Elsie ! the ole woman’d 
feel good ef she knowed, and I thank yer aUus the same. 
Hearty thank yer ; fur the ole woman’s right smart, she is, 
an’ ’s young as ever.” 

The simple fellow spoke this enthusiastically ; for his love 


206 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


to his mother, although they seldom met, was very strong, 
as Elsie knew. 

They were now walking in the direction of the cave, 
Adolph and IVIr. Hastings in advance, and the “ Giraffe ” and 
Elsie following at a little distance. Arrived at the clump 
of bushes, the party stopped, and the Eussian produced 
two silk handkerchiefs from his bosom. 

As no doubt your daughter — that is, jVIiss Hastings — 
informed you, sir, we have to blindfold all introduced to 
the cave who have not been initiated into the ‘ circle.’ We 
hope you will not take it unkindly, and you may shortly see 
your way so clearly in connection with our aims that this 
form will cease to be necessary.” 

Of course Mr. Hastings could put but one construction 
on this, and answered cheerfully : “Perhaps I may ; and, in 
the meantime, I am quite willing to walk in temporary dark- 
ness, hoping, through your guidance, to reach the light.” 

The younger man bowed with a gratified smile, and the 
bandages were soon adjusted. 

“ This reminds me of my early days, wTien I was initiated 
into the great order which then took the lead of all others 
— at least, among English-speaking people,” remarked the 
gentleman, as they were carefully guided through the 
winding passages of the underground way. In a short 
time a halt was made, and the, to Elsie, familiar “ Slava 
Bogu” greeted their ears, as the bandages were quietly 
removed. 

“Welcome, very welcome to our underground home,” 
said a pleasant voice, as a reverend figure, with long white 
beard, came forward with outstretched hands to meet Mr. 
Hastings’ newly recovered sight. Although tolerably well- 
informed of his appearance from Elsie’s description, the 
guest was hardly prepared to find such a very dignified, 
handsome embodiment of regal old age in this singular 
0-bode, 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 207 

“ Father, this is my friend and benefactor, of whom I 
have told you,” said Elsie, taking a hand of each. 

“ Not as a stranger do you come among us, my son ; for, 
knowing your amiable daughter, we feel that we know you,” 
said the old man, taking Mr. Hastings’ hand, and placing it 
over his own heart. “ With heart and hand I w'elcome you.” 

At the same time, those magnetic eyes were fixed win- 
ningly upon the stranger visitor. The reception was im- 
pressive in its simple dignity, and left a very pleasing 
influence on Mr. Hastings, who was then introduced to 
Nadia and Sophia, who had just entered the room, the 
latter somewhat less demonstrative toward Elsie, on ac- 
count of the awe-inspiring presence of Mr. Hastings, but 
still clinging to her beloved friend fondly. It was truly a 
unique party assembled in the singular dwelling — the grand 
old Exile, looking patriarchal enough to warrant his call- 
ing Mr. Hastings “ my son,” as he had done ; then the 
erect, still fresh-looking proprietor of the Hermitage, just 
entering the path of old age, with but a glimpse of the win- 
ter-roses showing in his hair and beard. Close to her father 
sat the heiress of the Hermitage, radiant with health and 
youth, showing, by her heightened color and smiling face, 
how keenly she enjoyed the occasion. Near her, but some- 
what in the shadow, stood the sinewy form of the younger 
Russian, in whose manly, expressive countenance could be 
easily read how intensely interested he was in everything 
passing. And the gentle Nadia, the unobtrusive wife of 
the Siberian exile, with the active, ardent, affectionate little 
maiden, Sophia. Nor can we omit the oddest, quaintest 
form of all, standing away from the group, but towering 
above them, gaunt and solitary, like a tall pine hardly used 
by the elements, and stripped of all verdure and beauty, 
but standing out against the landscape — heroic, strong, en- 
during, storm-defying, and fearless— the “ Giraffe.” 

To describe the expression of the trapper’s visage, as he 


208 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


gazed at the little assembly, would be impossible. He 
heartily entered into and enjoyed the scene ; for except- 
ing, perhaps, Gretchen, all those to whom he felt closest 
bound were before him ; and it was a delight to the simple 
soul to help bring them together. His long face was drawn 
into a curious contortion, meant for a smile ; and it was a 
smile, although a grotesque and rather alarming one, which 
by no means did credit to the kind human feeling which 
prompted it. It was a smile which cruelly caricatured his 
loyal heart and strong, earnest faithful nature — a smile in 
which every feature taking part to produce it looked as if 
playing in a burlesque. Let physiognomists say what they 
list, the human face does not always give a true idea of the 
character, especially if a panther’s claws have had some- 
thing to do in shaping the physiognomy, after Dame Nature 
had dismissed it as finished. And such had been the case 
with the “ Giraffe ; ” so the play of the emotions on his face 
was truly a “ comedy of errors,” so far as the beholders 
were concerned. 

Contrary to his former custom, Hiram remained in the 
room, probably in obedience to a sign made to him by 
Adolph when they entered. 

“ AVhat a magnificent dog,” said Mr. Hastings, laying his 
hand on the head of the Kussian hound, who had approached 
as if to welcome the -guest. 

“ Alex is one of the few good things Siberia produces,” 
replied the Exile. 

“Is he really a full-blooded Siberian blood-hound ? I 
have often heard of them, but not seen one before.” 

“ Yes : a friend brought him to me when a puppy, three 
years since ; and he is, as you see, one of the family. Alex, 
now you have been introduced, go and lie down.” 

The obedient animal did at once as his master ordered, 
followed to his resting-place by the admiring eyes of the 
visitors, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


209 


“ We have long known of you, Mr. Hastings, and grieved 
that opportunity did not offer oi circumstances permit a 
nearer knowledge,” remarked the Patriarch, turning to his 
guest. 

“ AVell, I cannot say as much,” answered the gentleman, 
smihng ; “ for I did not know of your existence until within 
the last three days.” 

“ No, you could hardly have suspected that you had un- 
derground neighbors — that is, of your own species. But 
though isolated, apart, and unknown, yet we have not been 
entirely unaware of the life passing around us, or unsym- 
pathetic with the experiences which go to form the current 
of human existence. Your dear child here — and the aged 
speaker fondly regarded Elsie — has doubtless informed you 
of those circumstances in my earlier career which compelled 
this solitude and sepai'ation from society ? ” 

“I think Elsie has told me all, so far as she knew, un- 
derstanding such to be your wish.” 

“ Perhaps I acted unwisely in the course pursued, and 
might have been justified and protected, had I stated the 
facts and thrown myself on the generosity of this tyrant- 
hating, freedom-loving country, just then herself emerging 
from a terrible but victorious conflict with oppression and 
Avrong. But remember, I was a stranger, and did not know 
how far the power and vindictiveness of that hateful des- 
potism, which held the throat of my native land in its re- 
lentless grasp, could go. Siberia, with all the soul-haunting 
dread and horror which that word implies to a Kussian, 
was ever before me ; and anything, even death itself, seemed 
preferable to that.” 

The old man paused, and seemed lost in painful recollec- 
tions, and bent his eyes on the ground, while Adolph re- 
marked, in a low but clear voice : “ Mr. Hastings, you must 
excuse us if we seem to obtrude our private griefs upon you ; 
but our wi’ongs have been so long confined to our own 
14 


210 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


bosoms that it is indeed an unspeakable relief to express 
them to sympathetic ears : besides, freedom and human 
rights are sacred themes, in which all noble souls must feel 
interest.” 

The gentleman addressed looked toward the speaker with 
kindling eyes : “I should be dull and selfish, indeed, did 
not the recital of human sufferings and wrongs touch me,” 
said he ; “ nay, more, I am profoundly affected and interested 
by the attitude assumed by the different nations of the world 
toward the great principles of individual freedom and hu- 
man rights which we are trying to emphasize in this re- 
public of ours. Kussia especially, in her frantic efforts to 
solve the problem of tme relations between the governing 
and the governed, has attracted my most earnest attention 
and heartiest sympathy.” 

Father and son both testified their deep gratification in 
the words of the speaker by an eager attention, while the 
play of emotion on the expressive face of the venerable 
Exile was to Elsie peculii^dy touching. 

“ Your words, my son, are like food to the hungry — for 
they give strength. Kelying on this love of right, which is 
inherent in your nature, we have invited you to come among 
us here, and take a place in our hearts, even as your dear 
child has. We ask you to know us, and judge of our claims 
and hopes, our aspirations and efforts. In short, we hope 
to be able to call you a friend and fellow-well- wisher toward 
the redeemed Kussia of our faith and trust. For are we 
not all brethren — whether American or English, Hungai’ian, 
Polish, French or Kussian ? Are not the interests of all 
members of the great family of nations identical — the 
greatest good to the greatest number ; to emancipate, ele- 
vate, and enlighten the many, and to curtail and limit the 
powers and privileges of the usurping few ? Yours is the 
exemplar nation of modern times, and marching in the van 
of progress and carrying the people’s flag. America, lead 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


211 


on ! and let each nation which deserves the name, even poor 
Russia — down-trodden, oppressed Russia — wheel into line 
and follow ! ” 

The venerable speaker rose during the latter part of his 
vehement utterance, standing erect with one hand resting 
on his staff, which Sophia had brought to him preparatory 
to their seeing something of the cave, which had been pro- 
posed so soon as the guests had rested a little. 

“But we will leave this subject now, and go and look at 
a few of the many curious chambers in this underground 
abiding-place.” 

So saying, the speaker led the way, the others following, 
with the exception of Nadia and her daughter, who dis- 
appeared behind the curtain which separated their apart- 
ments from the general sitting-room. After inspecting 
those parts of the subterranean region which have been 
spoken of before, the party returned to the sitting-room 
for lunch, and such further conversation as the time per- 
mitted before returning home. 

The visitors did full justice to the nice little lunch, which 
was served in full view of the great ravine, now clad in 
the full glory of late spring. Although the heat outside 
was rather oppressive, within the cave the temperature 
was quite pleasant, though there was a little fire on the 
great hearth — which fire, Mr. Hastings was informed, never 
was permitted to go out entirely. 

“ For there are very few evenings, even during July and 
August, when fire is not pleasant here,” remarked the host 
to his guests. 

In looking at the arrangements and cuiiosities of the 
singular room in which they were seated, Mr. Hastings soon 
noticed the symbolical drawing of the circle and dagger : 

“ Why, how very curious — the dagger and circle, Elsie,” 
he whispered significantly. “Can that have any relation 
to our house and grounds ? ” 


212 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


“ Ask the Patriarch,” she answered smihngly, quite willing 
that he should draw his knowledge from the fountain-head, 
arid indeed desiring that the subject of the circle should be 
opened up, being conscious of some little prejudice in her 
father’s mind against these foreign secret societies. 

“lam glad you asked this question, my son ; for I would 
like you to know the manner of our society. As I told 
your daughter, the property you own does really bear the 
symbolic stamp of a member of our circle, who was for- 
merly proprietor of it. The picture there shows the same, 
on a small scale, that your grounds and house do on a large. 
Our organization numbers over one hundred thousand 
members, men and w^omen, of all nationalities and of all 
shades of religious belief, but one in their detestation of 
tyranny, and hatred of oppression in any form whatsoever. 
Any true friend of Russia in her struggle for liberty can be 
a member.” 

“ But allow me to ask if that dagger does not suggest 
the taking of life, if necessary to compass certain ends 
deemed important ? In other words, as, in so many of these 
secret political societies, is not assassination regarded as 
justifiable to put obnoxious people out of the way ? ” asked 
Mr. Hastings. 

The Exile looked pained at the question, and responded 
slowly : “ By no means. Assassination is by us not only 

considered as unjustifiable, but is abhorrent to the whole 
spirit of our order. The dagger with us simply means 
self-defence. We are sworn to defend ourselves and our 
friends against peril ; but that is all.” 

“Then you are not Sociahsts, and do not sympathize 
with their methods ? ” said Mr. Hastings, in a surprised way. 

“ No, we are not, in the extreme sense,” deliberately an- 
swered the aged Exile, smiling on his questioner, “ although 
I am well aware that we have been and are so considered. 
But our methods of action are entirely pacific ; and one of 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


213 


the most important of these agencies is by the dissemina- 
tion of the light kind of literature — teaching people to 
think. We seek to conquer or persuade or convince the 
brain, feeling assured that this accomplished, and not until 
then, the hands and hearts will be at our service.” 

Altogether the visit was, to Mr. Hastings, a means of re- 
moving much involuntary prejudice which he had enter- 
tained against the various secret societies which have risen 
to such importance in European politics. 

Treachery, midnight murder, gunpowder, and poisoning, 
had been synonymous with such organizations, and he Tvas 
really relieved to find one order at least, which professed 
to be based upon a higher and more rational platform. He 
Tvas greatly impressed by the dignity, urbanity, and noble 
bearing of the Russian exile, and the quiet, domestic pleas- 
ant manners of the mother and child. Adolph, he acknowl- 
edged, was a straightforward, manly fellow, and had he 
been — but why mar the pleasant memory of what was a 
very enjoyable occasion by any foolish wishes ? 

‘‘ I must see more of those people, they are peculiarly 
interesting ; ” he said, to his daughter, on aniving at their 
own gate, just as the clock was striking the dinner hour. 

Fortunately, the St. Johns’ party had not returned, but 
came in a few minutes later, and so were unaware of the 
host and hostess having been absent from-home ; and it was 
decided best not to specially infoian them. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


“I HOPE I DON’T INTRUDE?” 

“ Yes, Miss Elsie, I knew Mrs. Rogers when I lived in H.., 
She used to visit Madame La Raimee, the French milliner, 
who was mon ami, my great friend. Miss Elsie. And I told 
Madame St. Johns about the beautiful artiste Madame La 
Raimee was, and about some beautiful hats madame had 
got lately from Paris, and so she say she must go ; ” and here 
the black eyes of the vivacious Frenchwoman twinkled 
gayly, and Elsie knew how truly she had peneti’ated and 
sagaciously played upon the weakness of the city lady. 

This conversation was suggested and caused by the 
vision of Mrs. St. Johns and her daughters, each arrayed in 
a new hat, as they passed up-stairs to their rooms. Roland 
was rather out of sorts ; for although, owing to John’s skill 
very largely, the driving was a success, they having only 
blocked wheels three times with other vehicles and 
knocked dowm one infirm old man, yet the young man was 
indignant at having been made unknowingly an accessory 
to a millinery expedition. Besides which, he could not 
forgive his sisters for not having insisted on Elsie’s accom- 
panying them. 

However, he brightened up somewhat at dinner when 
Mr. Hastings complimented him on the good condition in 
which he had brought back the team. A dollar to John, 
and fifty cents to the knocked-down man, who was more 
frightened than hurt, this accompanied by a stern injunc- 
tion to the girls to preserve a discreet reticence, enabled 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


215 


the young gentleman to feel quite at his ease, and even 
boast a little of his skill in handling the ribbons. AK 
longed to take him down a peg or so, as she termed it, but 
her mother’s eye meant mischief she knew, in case such at- 
tempt was made ; and so she wisely refrained for the time 
being. 

“We have had a most delightful day, I can assure you, 
Mr. Hastings ; the day was charming, tres charmant. Oh, 
you should have been with us, Elsie. Such exquisite spring 
hats, just your style, light from Paris — just too lovel3^ If 
I had known what a magnificent trip we were going to 
have, I would have insisted on your going ; positively I 
would not have taken no for an answer. How did you 
spend the day ? ” 

The remarks to Elsie, with the exception of the last sen- 
tence, were uttered in a low tone, and intended for her ear 
alone. 

“ We, too, have had a nice time. Father and I took a 
country ramble, and called on some of our country ac- 
quaintances,” said the young lady, quietly. 

“ Bless me, who is that ? ” said Mrs. St. Johns, as a two- 
wheeled trap, drawn by a handsome white horse, drove up 
to the door. 

A servant entered, bearing a card, on which Mr. Hastings 
read aloud, 

“ Harry Esmond, Melbourne, Australia.” 

“Cousin Harry, from Australia,” ejaculated Elsie, while 
her cheek paled a little, as she glanced at her father’s 
rather clouded brow. 

“ And here I am, my dear uncle and cousin, closely fol- 
lowing my card ; forgive me, I did not know you had com- 
pany, and was so anxious to see you that I could not wait ; ” 
and the new-comer shook hands heartily with Mr. Hastings, 
and kissed Elsie, almost before they knew it, and certainly 
before they had recovered from their surprise. 


216 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


There was no help for it. If that cloud on ]Mi’. Hastings’ 
brow had indicated any unpleasant feeling at his nephew’s 
appearance, or Elsie’s sudden pallor showed some old 
wound reopened, the guests w^ere not permitted to know 
of it, for the master of the Hennitage immediately regained 
his self-possession and gave his relation a formal introduc- 
tion to the rest of the company. 

“ Perhaps you would like to retme to your room, or will 
you join us at dinner now,” said AIi'. Hastings. 

“Well, uncle, I am, to be sure, not very fit, in this 
travelling costume, for the company of ladies, but if they 
will pardon it I wiU join you now. You do look so cosey 
and^pleasant.” 

The new visitor was of the medium height, of slight build, 
and swarthy complexion. He iiad shaggy eyebrows, dark 
curly hair, and a full black beard. Attired in a neatly fit- 
ting travelling suit, and with a display of ornament border- 
ing on the profuse ; he suggested a weU-to-do merchant or 
commercial traveller, of about thirty years of age. He was 
soon entirely at his ease with the company, and proved a 
very entertaining companion, having ap. -ai’ently travelled 
extensively. 

“ Have you just returned from Australia, Henry ; I see 
your card has Melbourne on it ? ” 

“Yes, uncle, I have permanently located there now. You 
see, I have been rather lucky, made some good speculations 
in the mining region, and have realized considerable money. 
So I thought I must come and see you all. You don’t know 
how I longed to see the old place again ? I spent my boy- 
hood here, IVlrs. St Johns.” 

“ Why, are you the nephew that was the companion of 
this dear girl’s childhood, and went abroad so many years 
ago ? ” asked the lady, regarding him cuiiously. 

“Yes, I am indeed the same,” returned the young man, 
meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “ I was rather a wild fel- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


217 


low then, I confess, and gave my fiiends some anxious hours, 
no doubt, but I’ve sown my wild oats — have reformed in 
fact, and with my brightened, and stiU I hope brightening, 
prospects have decided to settle down into — ahem — into re- 
spectability. I frankly acknowledge my past has not been 
perhaps just as straight-laced as some might wish. Boyish 
follies, my dear madam, boyish follies, but as one of our 
poets says : ‘ The sun that sheds the brightest day, may 
rise from mist and gloom.’ ” And the speaker gracefully 
made a little gesture with his shapely jewelled left hand, as 
if to emphasize his quotation. 

Esmond was well aware that IMi's. St. Johns knew his 
early history, and so he shrewdly resolved to forestall criti- 
cism by a frank contrition, and a show of manly regret, 
knowing well that the reputation of having been a httle 
wild ” would rather act as a recommendation to the ladies, 
a sort of passport to their favor. Such attitude of women 
toward the dissolute of the other sex works untold evil. 
It is a fruitful sourco of misery, suffering, and woe. The 
hateful maxim -which passes too cui-rent in female society 
that “ married,” w^as it is termed “ reformed rakes make 
the best husbands,” is an iniquitous falsehood. No man 
whose youth or early manhood has been trailed through 
the mire of vice, ever makes the man he might have been, 
without such loathsome baptism. These stains reach to 
the soul, and it wiU take more than the few years of Time 
to wash them out. If the unwritten history of the after- 
mairiage life of. the “reformed rakes” could be read by the 
other sex, they would stand back appalled, and shrink as 
from the brink of a precipice, at the physical, moral, and 
spiritual corruption revealed. Some of the most awful 
perils to which human natm-e can be exposed are thought- 
lessly incurred by delicate refined women, in marrying men 
who have been “ only a little wild.” 

Harry Esmond had been left an orphan at the tender age 


218 


THE RUSSIAK REFUGEE. 


of three, through the death, by accident, of Mrs. Hastings’ 
only brother, his wife having died shortly after the child’s 
birth. The little one was at once adopted by its uncle, 
who felt all a father’s interest in it. Three years older 
than Elsie, the children had grown up together and been 
as brother and sister, all through the years of childhood 
and youth. But Harry proved erratic and intractable. 
He early showed a predilection for low society, and when a 
mere lad would annoy his uncle by bringing about the 
house the bad boys of the neighborhood. Admonition and 
punishment proved of little avail, and the boy was sent 
to a boarding-school at the age of thirteen ; but at the ex- 
piration of the first term, the principal, Dr. Goring, sent a 
note to Mr. Hastings, declining positively to receive young 
Esmond again, as he was simply incorrigible, and recom- 
mending a private tutor for him. The suggestion was 
acted on, but the tutor, scholarly and conscientious, had to 
console himself with the rapid progress of Elsie, who 
joined her cousin in some of his studies, for the indolence 
and apathy of his special charge. 

At the end of a year the tutor resigned, tired of his task, 
and strongly urged that the boy should be apprenticed to 
some mechanical work, as he showed more aptitude for 
handling tools, than anything else. But while the uncle 
was trying to perfect arrangements with this end in view, 
the nephew had turned his mechanical abilities to account 
in another direction. It was conceded by all who had come 
in contact with the boy, that he had abundant ability, if he 
would only direct it into some useful channel. He was a 
perfect mimic, and excelled in dramatic power. He easily 
eclipsed all his youthful competitors in the school and 
home tableaux, or exhibitions in which he had taken part. 
He had an excellent voice for song and some musical ability. 
He had learned to dance and do it well too, in some inex- 
plicable way, having never taken any lessons, and naturally 


THE K0SSIAN REFUGEE. 


219 


his accomplishments made him very popular among j^ouths 
of his own age. He had repeatedly urged his uncle to let 
him become an actor, but knowing that with the boy’s 
habits and inclinations this would mean absolute ruin, Mr. 
Hastings peremptorily declined. 

When Harry w^as about sixteen the Milford Chief of 
Police called on Mr. Hastings, and was closeted with him 
for an hour. At the expiration of the interview, Harry was 
sent for by his uncle, and given the choice of going to 
prison to be tried for implication in a series of petty rob- 
beries in Milford which had long defied the vigilance of 
the police, or proceeding by the next steamer to Australia. 

The chief was inflexible. Young Esmond had been the 
planner and leader of the gang of boys who had done the 
pillaging, and he must stand trial or leave the country. 
The proprietor of the Hermitage had done the chief a favor 
at one time, having been his bondsman, and to save Mr. 
Hastings’ family pride he stretched his authority to give 
his nephew a chance to escape. 

“ I have done everything possible for you, Hariy. I have 
been a father to you, but you have proved an ingrate, and 
henceforth we must be as strangers. I will give you a let- 
ter to a merchant in Sydney, who will, for my sake, give you 
employment, and so you will be afforded an opportunity to 
retrieve yourself and be a man. Give up your bad habits — 
your smoking, and drinking, and fondness for bad society — 
and you may yet grow up to be an honorable man, and this 
crime and your worthless boyhood may be forgotten.” 

The reckless youth listened to his uncle’s admonition 
with barely concealed contempt, and felt rather glad than 
otherwise at the prospect of being his own master. He 
experienced no compunction for the wrong he had done, 
but only regretted that the break came before the gang had 
matured their plans for breaking into a large jewellery estab- 
lishment, where they expected to obtain considerable booty 


220 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


— sufficient to enable them to go to some distant city, as 
they were half afraid that suspicion was being attracted to 
them. 

There were about nine in the gang, the chief said, and 
he had all the names, and their operations had shown con- 
siderable adroitness and skill — so much so, indeed, that the 
police suspected that some older criminal had been direct- 
ing matters, without showing his hand, so well had their 
tracks been covered up. 

Elsie was much distressed at her cousin’s sudden depart- 
ure ; for, in spite of his waywardness, she was much attached 
to him, and he had been the playmate of her childhood. 
The dissoluteness of the youth could not efface from her 
mind the memory of the handsome, curly-headed boy, who 
shared her early life, with its sunshine and shadow, its 
smiles and tears. 

Perhaps the only redeeming feature in Harry’s character 
was his affection for his cousin, which had always influ- 
enced him in a degree — that is, when it did not too seriously 
interfere with his own selfish pleasures. He bade his uncle 
a cold good-by ; but when he turned to his cousin, the tears 
came, and he turned away to conceal an emotion he felt 
ashamed of. 

“ Be a good, noble boy, Harry, and perhaps IVIr. Gordon 
will take you into partnership. Promise to write to me,” 
she whispered, as she slipped into his hand a small gold 
watch, with his name and that of the donor, and the date of 
gift engraved on the back, which had cost her all her sav- 
ings to purchase. 

So the lad had left the Hemiitage, the home of his boy- 
hood, and the scene, too, of his criminal youth. 

At first he wrote to Elsie pretty regularly, telling how 
he had delivered his letter, and was employed in Mr. Gor- 
don’s store ; and then the letters became infrequent, and 
finally ceased altogether. 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


221 


At length, at Elsie’s urgent request, about four years after 
her cousin’s departure, Mr. Hastings wrote to the Sydney 
merchant, and was amazed to receive a reply disavowing 
all knowledge of the young man. The letter of introduc- 
tion had never been delivered, and nothing seen or heard 
of the bearer of it. To be sure, Mr. Gordon stated that 
about the time referred to, a gang of young gamblers fresh 
from the States had landed in the city, and began opera- 
tions pretty extensively, but he hoped the missing nephew 
had not been acquainted with them. 

‘‘ My dear, we must dismiss Harry from our minds ; I am 
afraid his case is hopeless. Let us talk no more about him ; 
he is not worthy of it.” 

And so Harry Esmond had dropped out of their lives, 
until he now loomed up eleven years afterward, and took 
his place at the dinner-table, as stated. No wonder the 
uncle’s brow clouded, no marvel the cheek of the cousin 
paled and flushed as the prodigal entered the room. 

The stranger nephew talked vivaciously, and yet with a 
deferential politeness, that quite entrenched him in the 
good opinion of the young people, at least, not excepting 
Elsie, who was touched by his candid acknowledgment of 
wrong-doing in the past, and claims of being quite re- 
formed. 

Mr. Hastings was polite to his relative, but it evidently 
cost an effort ; and the young man felt that, in spite of his 
assurance and dash, it would be necessary to “have it out ” 
with his uncle very soon after dinner, but was confldent in 
his ability to place matters upon an amicable footing. 

About an hour after dinner, a card was handed to Mr. 
Harry Esmond, requesting his presence in the library. The 
Australian entered the room in his cool, confident manner, 
and offered to take his uncle’s hand, saying : “You cannot 
tell how glad I am to see you again, uncle, after our long 
separation. It’s deuced hard to pass so many years of 


222 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


one’s life in a strange land, away from all one’s friends, I 
can tell you.” 

IVIr. Hastings ignored the extended hand, and quietly 
motioned him to a seat. “Now we are alone, Henry, it is 
not necessary to keep up an appearance of friendship 
which cannot possibly have any real existence between us. 
On my part, it might be excusable before strangers, from 
the wish to avoid unpleasant family recitals ; but on your 
part, it can only be the grossest hypocrisy, to cover some 
scheme or ulterior aim. Will you please explain your ap- 
pearance here — I may say, your extraordinary and unwar- 
ranted intrusion here, considering the circumstances under 
which you left us, as a criminal, eleven years ago, and the 
brazen effrontery of those lying letters you wrote from 
Australia, not to mention the suspicious silence you have 
preserved ever since ? ” 

The culprit listened with a chagrined hurt look upon his 
rather handsome face, which gradually gave way to an amused 
expression, as his uncle referred to the letters. Taking a 
cigar-case from his pocket, he held it toward his offended 
relative, sajdng : “It is dull work talking, uncle. Have a 
cigar ; they are real Havanas, I assure you ” — at the same 
time taking one himself, and biting the end preparatory to 
lighting it. 

“ Please restrain your smoking until you go outside ; I 
allow no one to smoke in this room. Besides, I want no 
trifling, but a clear understanding of our position forth- 
with.” 

“ Well, now, I remember you didn’t smoke — excuse me ; 
but I thought maybe you had learned in the meantime. 
Now, uncle, you shouldn’t be hard on a fellow. I did treat 
you meanly. When I think of it, I could go out and hang 
myself ; but you can forget and forgive, can’t you ? ” Re- 
member I was only a boy, and now I am a man, which 
makes all the difference in the world. Don’t it ? ” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


223 


“ I might have forgiven you if, when you went abroad, you 
had acted honestly ; but to go and write those infamous, 
mendacious epistles to youi* cousin — you don’t suppose I 
can ever forget or pardon that ? ” 

“ Now, uncle, what would you have a fellow do ? I went 
and looked at that old fellow, Gordon, and was in his store, 
and made up my mind that he was a poor sort of a cuss — I 
beg pardon. I mean not the right kind of man to govern a 
lone orphan like myself ; and then one of his clerks I got 
acquainted with said he was a regular tarer, and wouldn’t 
let the boys have a holiday when they wanted it. So I con- 
cluded that he and I would be better friends if we stayed 
apart. I knew it wouldn’t be so hard parting if we never 
got acquainted.” 

“ Very kind of you, I am sure ; and I am certain ]\Ir. Gor- 
don would feel indebted to you, if he knew what a naiTow 
escape he had had. But, to judge from some of your ex- 
pressions, I should say your boasted reformation hasn’t 
struck very deep,” remarked his uncle at this stage of the 
young man’s fluent exculpation of himself. Indeed, Mr. 
Hastings had not intenaipted him, because he wished from 
his talk to And out how he really stood, having little doubt 
but that he would condemn himself out of his own mouth. 

“ Well, uncle, I suppose you are willing to be friends, and 
let by-gones be by-gones ; so if you have nothing more to 
say to me, I will order out Nero and give Elsie a drive, I so 
want to have a talk about old times with her. ” Saying which, 
the young man put his unlighted cigar in his mouth, and 
started toward the door. 

“ Not so fast, my good sir. I must know more of your 
past life, and have some good" proofs that you are really 
reformed, before I admit you, even temporarily, as a mem- 
ber of my family. How do I know that you are a fit asso- 
ciate for your cousin, or these young ladies ? ” 

‘‘ Well, I declare, uncle, you are a regular Bluebeard, to 


224 


THE EHSSIAN REFUGEE. 


treat j^our own sister’s child that way. Don’t you wish to 
help me, when I am trying to do better ? ” This was said 
in a half-pathetic way, at the same time the ferrit-like eyes 
under the shaggy brows were watching the effect of his 
words. 

“ No nonsense ! ” thundered Mr. Hastings, thoroughly 
roused from his usual calm self-control. “ Don’t dare to 
mention my sister’s name, w'hich you have disgraced,” and, 
lowering his voice, “ even more deeply, I fear, than any of 
us know or suspect. Sit down, I tell you, once for all, and 
answer my questions, or else leave the house at once.” 

The nephew dropped into a chair unwillingly, and sat 
eyeing his , relative in a half-sullen, half-conciliatory way. 
It was easy to see that he was exercising great control over 
his naturally passionate and vengeful disposition — having 
an end to gain, which he considered worth the effort. 

Mr. Hastings drew his chair to the table, and motioned 
his nephew to do the same ; then taking out writing materi- 
als, he said, quietly : “I am not disposed to throw even a 
pebble in the way of the meanest of God’s creatures which 
is trying to rise in the scale of being — much less would I 
do it to one in whose veins runs the same race-blood as in 
my own. But I know you, Henry Esmond ; your hfe has 
been one of duplicity and wrong-doing. Whence you de- 
rive the degenerate blood, God only knows, for your mother 
was as true a soul as ever lived in flesh ; but if you have 
reformed, as you claim, you must prove it by something 
better than mere words. I propose to trace up your life, 
since leaving here^ categorically, step by step. So answer 
my questions, and beware how and what you answer ; for I 
shall take steps to verify your statements.” 

At the expiration of half an hour, Mr. HaiTy Esmond left 
the library with a bitter imprecation on his lips, and a 
somewhat less confident expression on his face, as he pro- 
ceeded to find his cousin. She was on the veranda watej;- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


225 


ing some favorite plants, alone ; for the St. Johns party had 
retired early, being somewhat fatigued, excepting Koland, 
who had been improving the time by giving Elsie a graphic 
history of the day’s adventures — even admitting that he 
had locked wheels with a farmer’s wagon, but claiming that 
he did it on purpose, just to see the old fellow’s annoyance. 
“ It was as good as the opera, you know, to see the expres- 
sion of the rustic countenance, when he found he was fast, 
and his scraggy horses couldn’t budge. I wouldn’t have 
missed it for anything.” 

“How could you, Koland? Why, it was a dangerous 
thing to do.” 

“ Oh, no, for we had a very strong carriage ; but don’t 
teU your father, or he won’t let me have the team again, 
and I want to drive you to-morrow or next day.” 

Koland had just disappeared for more water, when her 
cousin came seeking her ; and Elsie saw at once by his face 
that something was wrong. 

“Do you want to see me, Harry?” she said, speaking 
the name with an effort ; for she could not as yet feel quite 
at home with this bearded stranger, who resembled the 
smooth-faced lad who had left her so many years ago in 
nothing but the restless eyes and the vivacity of manner 
which was as marked in the man as it had been in the youth. 

“ Yes, Elsie, my dear cousin ; the old gentleman is un- 
reasonable, and I want you to intercede for me.” 

She stopped him in the full stream of his lucid, easy 
speech by raising her hand. “ Harry, you must not speak 
of my father that way. I will not listen to it ! ” 

“ Why ? ” he exclaimed, really astonished. “ Oh, I know ; 
you object to his being called the ' old gentleman ’ ;” and 
here his laugh rather grated on her sensitive ear. “ WeU, 
then, to please you coz, you, remember, not him by a — well, 
all right. My uncle, then, says that I must leave to-night. 
He says that you have too many cares on your mind at pres- 
15 


226 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


ent to attend to any more guests. But you don’t mind one 
more, Elsie. It makes me feel bad, after coming so far, not 
to be allowed to stay and rest awhile in the old home.” Here 
he looked at her with the pleading glance which in boyhood 
times always conquered her and served to bring him out of 
many a trouble with her father. 

I think, Harry, that father must have some other rea- 
son, for he is justice and hospitality itself. Were your an- 
swers to his questions satisfactory ? ” 

“ Well, now, that’s a good one ; as if they could be satis- 
factory with such an old — mean, he put me in the wit- 
ness box and fairly turned me inside out. I told you I’d 
reformed. I’m looking up, but a fellow can’t do everything 
all at once. I can’t be as good as him in a day, ’tain’t rea- 
sonable, and I don’t mean to, either. I mean if you’ll only 
let me stay here for a while I know I can satisfy you both 
that I have really reformed, and actions speak louder than 
words. Please, Cousin Elsie, you can do anything with my 
uncle ; ” and here he took her hand and would have kissed 
her, but she turned away her head, with an instinctive 
shrinking from the caress, and also conscious that Boland 
was watching them from the other end of the long veranda. 

Well, Harry, you must stay to-night ; at any rate it is 
too late to leave now ; I will speak to father. Stay here un- 
til I return.” 

His influence over her was still strong, and she felt it in 
spite of the lapse of years. And the cunning Australian had 
known from the first that his prospects at the Hermitage 
depended almost entirely on his cousin’s good-will, as based 
upon their former intimate association. 

“ My child, I am afraid of taking the risk and responsi- 
bility of giving this, by his own confession, heretofore dis- 
solute young man, the entrance to my house and the inti- 
macy of my guests and daughter, even if he is your own 
cousin,” 


THE RUSSIATT EEFUGEE. 


227 


“But, father,” urged Elsie, “it will look very strange and 
even create scandal if he should leave so abruptly, after 
having dined with us, and so plainly stating that he came 
to stay for awhile ; besides, if he has really reformed, think 
how we should reproach ourselves, if we should discourage 
his efforts to raise himself above his past ? ” This argu- 
ment went home strongly to the father and uncle, for the 
proprietor of the Hermitage was singularly sensitive con- 
cerning anything which might impugn his reputation for 
kindness and hospitality. 

“Elsie, my dear, the young man has shown no proofs 
whatever of his reformation ; rather, the slips in his conver- 
sation, and indeed, his whole bearing, seem to preclude any 
such thought. We have only his own word for it, and you 
know from the past how much credence can be given to 
his statements. I have taken down in full his answers to 
my questionings, tracing him from point to point in his 
wanderings in Australia, where he says he has been engaged 
in mining most of the time. I intend writing to some 
trusty friends out there who will take steps to verify these 
statements of his, and I propose to let the answers to 
these inquiries govern our future relations toward this pro- 
fessed repentant prodigal. Certainly it would be only the 
part of common prudence to keep him at arm’s length 
until these answers arrive. Harry is not in want of money ; 
indeed, he professes to have abundance, so he had better 
live at the hotel and hold himself aloof until we receive 
corroboration of his avowals.” 

“But, father, it will be perhaps two months before you 
can hear, and think of the risk of bad society cousin will 
run stopping at the hotel, where he mil probably come in 
contact with some of the evil influences that ruined his 
boyhood. He would be infinitely safer here. Do try him 
father, and let him stay ? ” 

“ My dear Elsie,” said he, laying his hand on her head. 


228 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ it is sadly against my judgment, but I cannot refuse you, 
especially as my own heai-t speaks a word on behalf of the 
poor deluded young man who is his own worst enemy. 
Let him remain to-night and I will tell you to-morrow what 
I have decided on for him.” 

So the nephew triumphed, and went to rest feeling sat- 
isfied that, to use his expression, “ he had taken the first 
trick.” 


CHAPTER XVni. 


PLAYING WITH FIRE. 

St. Paul, Minn., June 3, 18—. 

My Dear Coz ; Hurrah for U. S. , the best country yet I I feel 
this A.M. as if I trod on air or might take wing, and, spurning this 
dull sluggish clod, soar beyond the arching blue, white fleeced, into 
the rarer ether which savants tell us fills interplanetary space. But 
no, I nobly refrain, and will stay where I am, for you might need 
me, and how sad would be thy lot were I not here. No thanks, you 
are more than welcome to my best services at this distance. Distance, 
’tis naught, souls like ours rise superior to mere distance — for us, 
space exists not. Such common obstacles have meaning merely for 
the ignoble crowd who cling to surfaces, and breathe only on super- 
ficies. We, that is you and I, live in thoughts, and contact by soul 
communion. No, I am not a candidate for the post of physician to a 
lunatic asylum. No, madam. But perhaps you have been intent 
on mundane matters and concerned with vulgar cares, and so cannot 
soar this morning, so I must fain descend to your level and discourse 
in matter-of-fact. We are having a glorious time, and nature has been 
kind, almost to satiety, so far as weather is concerned. Our English 
friends “ rejoice and are exceeding glad” — quotation you observe, 
though for the life o’ me I cannot place it at this moment. Someone 
at my elbow to whom I referred, says “ Psalms,” but Isay “Shake- 
speare,’’ because he said everything. We visited Niagara and gazed 
upon its turbulent waters with befitting awe. The Britons looked 
and wondered, and wondered and looked, and tried to find suitable 
similes, but nothing came until someone said, “ ’tis time for lunch,” 
and so to lunch we went ! What a marvel it is ! I mean, of course, 
Niagara, not lunch — no, the bill was the marvel there. But we have 
been everywhere, and seen nearly everything, and “still our wonder 
grows” — think that’s a quotation, but not quite sure ; give me credit 
for it, if it is. 

This is a charming region, and Mr. T says he would be almost 


230 


THE pj^ssiAX kefugp:e. 


willing to live in Minneapolis for tlie remainder of liis career. Just 
think of that — such an acknowledgment for an Englishman, and a 
Londoner to boot ! We may decide to go on to California, certainly 
we shall visit Salt Lake and the Mormons, and so in my next I may 
tell you something about that many- wived city. Now a word for 
yourself, Coz. Do you often go to visit those stranger folks that you 
sojourned with when you ran away — no — strayed away from home 
last winter ? Didn't I promise for you that you would tell me all 
about it when I came back from England, No doubt you forgot it 
in the exuberance of your joy at seeing me again after so long an ab- 
sence, However, I want you to write and make amends for it by 
sending me a full account in your next, and if I find I cannot keep 
the secret, why I will get Ellen here to help me keep it for you. 
By the way, you ought to tell me, because I have decided to locate 
in Melville, and so I want to know everybody, and those secret folks 
may not yet have engaged any doctor. By the way, how would you 
like Ellen for a cousin, I begin to think — hold your ear close so no 
one else can hear, that she is my P, C, 

Your most loving cousin, 

Wahren Seaman. 

“ Father, read this ; Warren is engaged to Ellen Thomp- 
son, at least I think so by his letter. Here it is. ” 

“What does he mean, my dear, by P. C. ? ” 

“ Oh, physiological complement ; and I have heard him 
say that whenever he met with his P. C., he w^ould engage 
himself forthwith.” 

“ I suppose he meant if the P. C. would have him ? ” said 
Mr. Hastings. 

“No such proviso on the part of the modest young man, 
for he insisted that if she was really and truly his P. C., 
she could not help herself ; she must have him, the attrac- 
tion would be so strong. It is one of his funny theoiies.” 

Harry, the other cousin, was still at the Hermitage, and 
to all appearance likely to remain. He had contrived to 
ingratiate himself into the good graces of everyone in the 
house except Mrs. Wagram, who fairly detested him, but 
yet could give no reason for it. She said he reminded her 


THE EUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


231 


of some one she hated, and that was all she would say 
about it. Elsie would frequently observe her studying and 
watching him at a distance, much as a cat will contemplate 
a coveted bird, into which it longs to put its talons. And 
somehow the feeling seemed to be fully recqorocated by 
the young Australian ; for after one or two attempts to in- 
sinuate himself into the good graces of the Gallic lady, 
Harry Esmond studiously avoided her, and seemed anxious 
to escape her observation. 

“ He is no good, he is one bete noire,” remarked the dame, 
one day, to the housemaid in Elsie’s hearing. 

Esmond was a capital rider, and his white horse Nero 
could be seen very frequently bearing his master hither and 
thither — sometimes at a br^jDi-neck speed, as some of the 
staid country folks thought. Occasionally, his cousin would 
accompany him, but not so often as he wished ; for she knew 
that her father did not desii’e it — at least, did not wish much 
intimacy with the young man until he heard from Australia. 
Harry seldom spoke to his uncle, indeed they instinctively 
avoided each other ; although, had the latter followed his 
natural promptings, he would have given heart and hand in 
helping the young man to lead a good, useful life. Once, 
indeed, he had half hinted that Harry would do better to 
take a situation or set to work in earnest at some useful 
calling ; but the nephew showed such a disinclination to 
converse on the topic that it was not .resumed, and Mr. 
Hastings felt all his suspicions return in full force, and 
looked forward anxiously to the expected communications. 

Mrs. St. Johns and her daughters were charmed with Mr. 
Esmond — such a well-behaved, distingue-looking young 
man, and so free with his money. Quite an acquisition to 
our society, my dear. And supposing your cousin was a 
little fast ? Why, Elsie, all young men are fast, sooner or 
later, and they make none the worse husbands. You know 
Mr. Whitely, the banker, that you met at^ur house. He was 


23 ^ 


THE RUSSIAIS- REFUGEE. 


one of the wildest young men, and everybody prophesied 
evil of him, and said he would never come to any good ; 
yet he married a lovely girl, Clara Howard, the belle of 
our set, and is an exemplary husband and father.” 

And the good lady smiled with an air of calm wisdom at 
Elsie and her daughters, as if she had uttered profound 
truths. 

Poor, thoughtless butterfly of fashion, living on the mere 
surface of things, she little Suspected the inner history of 
the Whitely marriage. She little knew the amount of 
money which found its way penodically into the pockets 
of a certain respectable, intensely respectable, black-robed 
individual as hush-money — blackmail, if you will — in order 
to render the wealthy banker safe from revelations con- 
nected with his early life, which if known might seriously 
mar his domestic and social bliss. Ketribution ? Aye, it stalks 
a ghost, but ’tis dreadfully certain ; and when its hand, bodi- 
less and immaterial as it seems, touches the culprit, it brings 
a chill like that of the charnel-house. A marriage ! Great 
heavens ! what a hideous mockery of a word which should 
mean so much, involving such responsibility. On the one 
side, a blase mind, withered heart, selfish instincts, a dis- 
eased body and a haunting memory, a wretched worn out 
affair — a prematurely used up vehicle, revarnished to sell. 
On the other, a ghfl’s trusting heart, given to one that 
she believes pure and virtuous, mentally and physically, as 
herself ; in short, an Admirable Crichton — the one man of 
all the world. Such had been the Whitely-Howard mar- 
riage — a great social event of a few years before, and to which 
Mrs. St. Johns referred in such eulogistic terms. To be 
sure, Clara did look pale and care-worn, aiid was a good deal 
of an invalid, and her two children were sickly ; but of 
course the skeleton was kept carefully in the closet, and as 
usual all except the few were hoodwinked. 

IMrs. St. Johns was a managing woman, and fond of plan- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


233 


ning other people’s lives for them ; and, having decided on 
Elsie as a daughter, she was fast making up her mind — by 
no means a very formidable operation, considering the size 
of the material — that she would like the gay, witty, wealthy 
cousin for a son. As to which of the girls was to be offered 
up to the Moloch of expediency, she had not j'et decided. 
At present, she rather hoped the gentleman would fancy 
Alf ; as Angie, being more distinguished-looking, and withal 
more amenable to the maternal influence, might, by skilful 
manoeuvring, secure a title, or at least a husband high in 
diplomatic rank. 

Harry Esmond and Boland had become fast friends and 
constant companions. The former, with his varied experi- 
ence, knew exactly how to influence such a man as Boland, 
who, being exceedingly vain and proud of his supposed 
knowledge of the world, of which he really knew nothing, 
was an easy prey for any designing, unscrupulous companion 
who could gain his confidence. The young men were out 
a great deal together, and spent many evenings in Melville, 
not returning until late at night. Mr. Hastings watched 
this growing intimacy with much uneasiness, knowing how 
weak and easily influenced young St. Johns was, and almost 
compelled to believe his nephew utterly unprincipled, in 
spite of fair appearances. He did not feel justified in 
speaking to Mrs. St. Johns on the subject, dreading her 
reproaches, if she believed his suspicions correct, and her 
want of discretion in any case ; and he knew how entirely 
useless any remonstrance would be, addressed to Boland. 
So there was nothing for it but to w'ait with the best grace 
possible for the arrival of the expected letters from Aus- 
tralia, which would authorize decisive action at once, or 
else be a warrant for believing in the reformation of the 
prodigal. 

One thing IMrs. St. Johns was cognizant of, which the 
others were not, and which did excite some little maternal 


234 


THE KUSSIAN REFITGEE. 


alarm occasionally; and that was Roland’s impecunious 
condition since he had formed the new acquaintance. He 
was nearly always “ strapped,” to use his expression — which 
word horrified her fastidious ears much more than the fact 
alarmed her judgment. She was frequently appealed to for 
loans and advances, and occasionally the amounts were 
considerable. She demurred and remonstrated ; but only 
sons are not easily refused, and so the result was usually 
the same — concession on her part, and victory on his. Hav- 
ing a liberal private income, independent of her husband, 
the fond mother could gratify the son without letting any 
one else into the secret. 

Some investments, which will yield handsomely by-and- 
by, but money needed constantly for improvements now. 
Rich returns, in which you will share, after a while, mother,” 
was his usual answer in substance, though occasionally 
varied in style. Besides, it was hinted to the lady bounti- 
ful that these investments had some mysterious relation to 
the success of his suit with Elsie, which served to render 
the fond parent more pliant and yielding than she might 
have been otherwise. 

Early in their acquaintance, Roland had been induced to 
confide to his companion his ardent admiration for Elsie, 
and determination to win her ; and Harry had vowed to 
further his suit in every way possible. ' 

“ She shall be yours, my boy,” he exclaimed, clasping his 
hand warmly ; “ and Harry Esmond never goes back on 
his word, when he gives it to a friend ! Damn it if he 
does ! ” 

The young man never used profane language in the house, 
or in the presence of ladies ; but somehow, outside with 
Roland, he was not so scrupulous, and the latter rather in- 
clined to regard it as a sign of confidence and fellowship. 

“ Why, I know Elsie better than anyone else in the world ; 
I was brought up with her, and have more influence with 


THE KHSSIAN REFUGEE. 


235 


her than anybody else. Yes, you shall be my cousin ; de- 
pend upon it, if you’ll only be guided by me.” 

Elsie was really attached to her cousin, in spite of the 
cruel duplicity he had been guilty of toward her father and 
herself. She had a woman’s faith in the reality of his refor- 
mation — perhaps because she ardently wished it. She had 
watched him pretty closely since he had returned, and her 
faith grew stronger. Once she had noticed, on a starlit 
morning, when restlessness induced her to leave her couch 
and sit by the window, the figures of two young men com- 
ing softly toward the house. At first alarmed, she recog- 
nized them when they came nearer, and a cold chill of ap- 
prehension passed over her, she could not tell why, and a 
strong suspicion of her cousin took possession of her for a 
few moments ; but she resolutely repressed the feeling, 
although deciding to speak to Harry in the morning, and 
let him know that she had seen them. This she did, when 
the gentleman laughed and called Eoland, who was near, 
declaring that they had been out walking, and had fallen 
asleep in the warm night, on sitting down to rest, having 
been utterly unconscious of the lapse of time, until Eoland 
waked up, to discover it was three o’clock in the morning ; 
and then, of course, they made their way home. 

It might have been observed, by an uninterested looker- 
on, that Eoland looked quite astonished at Harry’s state- 
ment, and blushed somewhat when asked to corroborate it ; 
but if Elsie did see this, she attributed it to the young 
man’s natural annoyance at having been so caught. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A PASSAGE AT ARMS. 

It was five o’clock in the morning, and Elsie was up and 
dressed. The day was opening clear and bright, although 
with a promise of sultry heat, hot uncommon to laje 
June. 

“ What a superb morning for a gallop,” she said to her- 
self — “just the thing. So if you are agreed. Gyp, off we 
go to the table-rock and back, before breakfast.” 

A moment later, she was in the stable speaking to Gyp, 
who neighed joyfully, and seemed by his restless motions 
to be as anxious as she for one of their old-time gallops. 
For since the visitors had been at the Hermitage the black 
steed had often missed his daily exercise with his young 
mistress, or had to submit to being taken out by James 
merely for a mile or so. James was on hand, and soon the 
rider was on the saddle, and away they went at a rattling 
pace in the direction of the table-rock. Never had the air 
felt more bracing and stimulating ; for a shower in the 
early night had laid the dust, and, as it were, washed the 
atmosphere. Every bush seemed alive with soipe form of 
life, and nature wore her wondrous dress of deepest 
green. 

As they neared a cross-road, not far from the great 
ravine. Gyp’s small ears were suddenly thrown forward, as 
if some new sound had reached them ; and a moment later, 
his rider became aware of the measured beat of hoofs 
coming steadily from the east. It became a question 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


237 


'which should reach the crossing first ; for the travellers 
'were as yet hidden from each other by intervening trees 
and clumps of bushes. 

At length the sound came rapidly nearer, and a horseman 
dashed across the road, about fifty feet in advance of her. 
He seemed in urgent haste, but gave a side glance as he 
passed, and a second later had reined up so suddenly as to 
bring his steed rearing in the, air like an equestrian statue, 
and seriously imperilling the rider’s seat. 

“ Miss Hastings ! Is it possible? A moment earlier or 
later, and I should have missed seeing you ! ” exclaimed the 
Russian, as Elsie at once perceived it to be ; and then, as his 
cap was raised, she could not help seeing the painful blush 
that overspread the features which had given radiant em- 
phasis to the joy his words, and the tone more than the 
words had expressed at seeing her. She felt, as once before, 
that he feared his frankness had offended her, and has- 
tened to reassure him. 

‘‘ A delightful morning to meet one’s friends, Mr. Adolph ; 
and I am particularly glad, for I wanted ever so much to 
inquire about your father, and Sophia and her mother. 
How are they all ? Well ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, quite well ; but do you go to the table-rock ? 
May I ride with you, and tell you of our friends ? ” 

‘‘ Certainly, if it will not detain you. I am only taking a 
gallop before breakfast.” 

“ I shall be so glad. It will not detain me. I can make 
it up,” and then lowering his tone : “ Miss Hastings, I have 
news to tell you ; you will be glad, and it will give my aged 
father delight. ‘ Slava Bogu ’ — he had never used a Russian 
phrase or word to her before, but she could see that he 
was excited — Ivan Petrovich has escaped from Siberia, and 
is on his way here. The blood-hounds will be after him ; 
but he will be safe with us. We have saved many a poor 
victim, and the great Czar has been often foiled,” 


238 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


He spoke triumphantly, and his eyes gleamed with a 
fierce light. 

‘‘But I do not know him, do I ? Ob, yes : he is, he must 
he, Nadia’s husband. Is it really so ? Has Sophia’s father 
come back ? ” 

She checked her horse to a full stop in her eagerness, 
her face almost rivalling his own in its earnest glow. 

“Yes, yes, ‘Slava Bogu,’ Sophia’s father is even now 
perhaps in New York.” 

“ How delightful ! How I should like to see dear little 
Sophia’s face, when she sees her father ! She has never 
seen him, I believe.” 

“ Not since she was three years old, and she is thirteen 
now. Ten years exile in Siberia ! It makes one’s blood 
boil. He was guilty of nothing but denouncing wrong and 
bribery and corruption. Such language as your patriots 
use every day sent him, this husband, this father, this 
friend, to Siberia. Siberia ! Oh, you cannot tell what that 
word means. Miss Hastings. It means death, or worse than 
death.” 

“ But then he has escaped, you say. That is a grand 
thing, and no one can touch him in this land of freedom.” 

“ True, that is a glorious fact ; but I must see your father, 
and know if he can be interfered with by the Eussian 
government.” 

“lam sure we shall be glad to give any help — that is, I 
mean my father will aid you in any way in his power.” 

“I know you will, and I thank you,” laying his hand on 
his heart. “ You must both come and see Ivan, and hear 
his story. It will be a wonderful story.” 

The table-rock was reached ; and, after drinking in the 
varied beauty of the landscape from the deeply-wooded 
chasm beneath in its vast depths and extent, to the arching 
blue above, transparent, clear without a single cloud, and 
around and around as far as the bounding horizon gave 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


239 


permission to the roaming vision, they turned to retrace 
their steps, and dashed off at a free galloping pace. 

“ I was just from the office with the letter to me bearing 
the good tidings. How glad they will all be ! ” 

Now, you must leave me here, and take the news as fast 
as possible. Here are the cross-roads,” said Elsie, check- 
ing Gyp at the point where they had met before. 

He looked as though he would like to travel further with 
her, but he checked the feeling. 

“lam selfish — you are right. Miss Hastings always is. 
They have aright to know as soon as possible. But you will 
come and see us soon, you and j'our father? We hoped 
you both might see your way to join our circle ; and then 
you would be free to come and go as you please, without 
the indignity of blindfolding. I hate myself when I bind 
3'our eyes. But you will forgive us ; it is the law of the 
Grand Circle that no one shall be admitted to the lodge- 
room seeing, unless a member of the order. Our cave comes 
under the rule.” 

“Well,” said his hearer laughing, “it is very certain I 
did not see much the first time that I was admitted.” 

“ No, indeed. Miss Hastings ; it was almost like being born 
into our order, and we feel as if you were one of us.” 

“ I know father will want to hear about Siberia. When 
will Ivan be home ? ” 

“ To-morrow, or even to-day. I go to meet him at once 
on the road. When will you come ? ” 

He spoke so wistfully that she answered promptly : 

“Soon, very soon; I will be at Gretchen’s cottage next 
Monday, at three o’clock in the afternoon. I have some- 
thing to tell her, and perhaps I can leave word there for 
you. But I detain you, and you must lose no more time in 
reaching home with the news. Goodby, with kind regards 
to those at home.” 

Thanks, oh thanks ! I will seo that some on^ is at Gret-* 


240 


THE EUSSIAIs^ EEFUGEE. 


chen’s to receive your message for my father,” raising his 
cap as Gyp leaped forward, glad to be free from the fret- 
ting curb. 

Neither Elsie nor her companion knew that they had 
been closely watched, by a pair of sharp black eyes, from 
behind a clump of bushes near the cross-roads. Somebody 
else had been tempted by the beauty of the morning to take 
an early ride ; and a few moments after the black horse 
reached the stable, a rider on a white one dashed up, and 
dismounting hastily handed the bridle to James, and saun- 
tered moodily toward the house. 

“So that’s the little game, my lady, is it? Well, it’ll go 
hard if I can’t checkmate you. Wonder who the foreign- 
looking chap is, anyhow ? Damn him ! what business has 
he to speak to her ? And they seem so intimate, too.” 

The owner of the white steed walked up and down his 
room in a perturbed state of mind ; for evidently what he 
had seen and heard threatened to seriously interfere with 
his plans. 

“Monday at three o’clock, at Gretchen’s ! Who the deuce 
is Gretchen? Well, I’ll be on the alert, and find out what 
it all means, anyhow.” 

At the half past-seven breakfast, no one was more bright 
and engaging than cousin Harry, who seemed in the very 
best of spirits, and was so pleasant and polite that even his 
uncle began to relent toward him, and to question whether 
he might not have done him injustice. 

“He had a good father, and one of nature’s noblewomen 
for a mother ; and where his depravity comes from, I cannot 
divine. If I w^as hasty in judging him, which is possible, he 
shall find me equally prompt in making reparation. Time 
only can show. I must wait,” said the proprietor of the 
Hermitage to himself ; “ but why no word from Australia ? ” 

However, at least one of the expected answers came in 
the morning’s mail ; for Elsie saw the Australian postmark 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE 


241 


on it, and rather trembled as she tooh it to the library. 
On the way she met her cousin, who playfully snatched the 
letters from her. 

“New York — Washington, D. C., and Melbourne, Austra- 
lia. Whew ! now uncle’ll be satisfied. The Australian let- 
ter at last ! There, run along with them, little one ! Who 
knows what may be in that awful letter about your poor 
cousin ? ” 

So saying, he put the captured missives into her out- 
stretched hand, with a smile which showed, Elsie thought, 
no fear of the possible contents. 

“ Sit down, my child, while I read this letter from Mel- 
bourne. It may concern you — indeed, both of us — and I 
wish you to know its contents.” 

So saying, her father opened and read as follows : 

Billeroo, New South Wales. 

May 29, 18—. 

My Dear Sir : Mr. Richard Gordon, of Sydney, wrote me some- 
time since, stating that you were very anxious to obtain positive in- 
formation as to the conduct and life led by a Mr. Harry Esmond, dur- 
ing his residence in Australia. As he had no personal knowledge of 
the young man himself, and knew only incidentally that he had left 
Sydney, after a very brief residence, to reside here, Mr. Gordon asked 
me to give you the information, as a mutual friend of himself and Mr. 
Esmond. The young gentleman referred to lived here for at least 
five years, and was engaged as a stcck-broker and speculator, for which 
lie showed remarkable aptitude. My acquaintance with him covered 
at least three years, and we had many business transactions together ; 
so I speak from personal knowledge, when I say that, while fond of 
society, and perhaps what a very straight-laced individual might term 
convivial occasionally, he was a gentleman in his deportment, and 
honorable in business relations, always winning or losing with equal 
composure ; and you know his business is one of ups and downs. 
After he left Billeroo, I heard that he made a great deal of money 
in the mines ; and I am sure I hope so, for he deserves good fortune. 
Any further information will be cheerfully furnished. 

Yours respectfully, 

Alfred Hastings, Esq. Richard Darlington. 

16 


242 


THE RUSSIAIN^ REFUGEE. 


Mr. Hastings’ face brightened as he read, and on- finish- 
ing he handed the epistle to his daughter, who perused its 
contents with glistening eyes. 

“ How very satisfactory ! Oh, how glad I am ! I feel 
ashamed of my doubts of Harry. Perhaps he has always 
been more sinned against than sinning.” 

“ I too am glad of this, Elsie ; but I should have felt more 
satisfied if Gordon had written. However, it is good so far 
as it goes. But I must request that you say nothing about 
this until I hear further. I have written several letters, and 
must await other answers before taking any definite steps.” 

“ But, father, cousin Harry knows the letter has come ; ” 
and she related the incident in the hall, and how quickly 
HaiTy recognized the postmark. 

“ That is a little unfortunate,” said her father ; “ however, 
leave matters to me, and as no doubt he will question .you, 
just refer him to me, and say. that I am awaiting the arrival 
of other letters.” 

“But Harry has, I know, been offered that position in the 
H. Bank, if you will go on his bond ; and it will be such a 
disappointment to him, poor fellow.” 

“ And do you really think he expected me to go on his 
bond, when it must be at least $5,000 ? It is the position 
of assistant cashier, is it not ? ” 

“I think so ; but it would be such a nice place for Harry, 
and perhaps would be the turning-point in his life. It will 
be such a pity if he should lose it.” 

“Elsie, Harry must not ask me to do such a thing. I can 
hardly see why the H. people should offer a strange young 
man such a responsible position, unless it is meant as a 
compliment to me, having dealt so long with them. How- 
ever, I must see the president, and ascertain what represen- 
tations your cousin has made, in order to induce such an 
offer.” 

So saying, her parent bid her good-by, left the house. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 243 

and was driven rapidly away in the chaise which James 
had brought to the door a few moments before. 

“And he won’t do it ; and yet you say the letter was very 
favorable, as I knew it would be. The darned suspicious 
old ” — but seeing her startled, indignant look — “ curmud- 
geon, the postman, I truly believe, has purposely lost the 
other letters, or I would be all right with your father by 
this time.” 

Elsie was not naturally suspicious ; but it required all her 
charity to believe that the latter part of the sentence was 
the natural conclusion of the first. 

“ You ought not to speak so about the postman, Harry ; 
for he has always been very faithful, and done his duty well. 
The letters will be here after a while, no doubt.” 

“ Of course they will, cousin Elsie, and everything will 
be lovely, so far as I am concerned,” he answered, in his 
usual cheery manner. “ And now tell me about my other 
cousin, Warren, whom I have never met. What sort of a 
fellow is he ? ” 

Elsie enthusiastically described, the absent one, telling 
what an exemplary student he had been, and ended by nar- 
rating his adventures in England, especially his encounter 
with the burglars, and the subsequent attempt to beat him. 

“Why, he must be a hell of a fellow,” ejaculated her 
hearer, who had listened in evident astonishment to her re- 
cital. She regarded him with amazement, her face flushing 
more with vexation than anger. 

Seeing this, the culprit hastened to apologize. 

“ Forgive me, Elsie. This horrid habit of using slang 
terms has clung to me from my mining life, where I was 
surrounded by rough men ; but I have nearly broken my- 
self of it, and shall not offend you again.” 

“ If father once heard you speak so, Harry ” — regarding 
him pityingly — “ all would be over between you. You know 
sucla language does not speak much for reformation.” 


244 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ I know it don’t, but I am reformed, for all that ; and I 
know, my sweet, forgiving Elsie, the sister and guardian 
angel of my boyhood, will bear with her wayward cousin.” 

She felt that he was at least in earnest this time ; for his 
voice was touched with emotion, and his better nature, to 
which Elsie always had held the key, for the moment was 
in the ascendant. "Why is it that the good angel with so 
many people takes such frequent holidays, and leaves his 
black companion in possession? Perhaps because the 
former has been ignored and snubbed and insulted so 
often that he becomes weary, and is compelled to leave, in 
order to recruit his exhausted energies. 

Elsie had always been the incarnate representative of 
Harry Esmond’s good angel, and he sometimes bitterly re- 
gretted that he had not heeded her warnings, entreaties, 
and tears ; but although he loved his cousin better than 
anyone else in the world, yet he loved himself more. And 
self-love and self-indulgence had been the ruin of his life. 
Perhaps mankind wdll eventually find out that the arch- 
fiend, which they have been dreading so long, and about 
whom so many sermons have been preached, is, after all, 
nothing but selfishness. For is not this the great tempter 
to all sorts of evil ? Is not this truly a devil ? 

Mr. Hastings’ interview with the bank president, IVIi'. 
Edwards, was not quite reassuring. The gentleman ac- 
knowledged that he had acted a little precipitately in offer- 
ing a position which led directly to the most responsible 
office in the bank to one who was almost a stranger. 

“ But, my dear Mr. Hastings, he is so respectably con- 
nected, and has such a good address, and then the bank 
had no doubt, from what he said, that you would go his 
bond to any amount, besides his being financially easy him- 
self, that we did not feel as if it was an ordinary case — in 
fact, could not see that we ran any risk whatsoever.” 

“ Well, Mr. Edwards, I quite appreciate the compliment 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


245 


you pay me by offering my nephew — a stranger to you, or 
at most an acquaintance of a few weeks’ standing — so re- 
sponsible and important a post ; but you will oblige me if 
you will take no further steps in the matter until you see 
me, or hear from me directly — that is, supposing the situa- 
tion will be open to my nephew for a few weeks.” 

“ Certainly, Mr. Hastings. It will not be necessary to fill 
the office for some weeks, as we have the old assistant with 
us yet, and he will remain until we are suited.” 

That evening, a polite note from IVIr. Edwards informed 
Esmond that the position was not to be filled for some 
weeks, and that his apphcation should have the first con- 
sideration. 

The young man’s brows grew dark as he read, and he 
viciously crushed the note in his hand, and then tearing it 
into pieces stamped on them with somewhat savage anger— 
at least, so the lady at the upper window thought ; and, five 
minutes later, he was on his horse’s back, riding at a rapid 
rate to town. Mrs. Wagram, the lady at the window, quietly 
descended, picked up the pieces of paper out of the soil, 
and returning to her room proceeded to arrange them to- 
gether, and then read the note. 

Mon Dieu, so the bon jeune homme try to get into a 
bank, does he ? Bien, tres-bien, oui monsieur ; ” saying 
w’hich, she deposited the pieces in a little book, and locked 
the volume up. 

About an hour later, two young men were closeted in an 
upper room in the principal hotel in MelviUe. It was the 
room which Harry Esmond had engaged the day after ar- 
riving at the Hermitage, and where he spent much of his 
leisure time outside of the Hastings mansion. It was a 
large, convenient chamber, having a recess in the end, con- 
taining a bed, which was separated from the rest of the 
apartment by a heavy curtain. 

IVIr. Hastings had consented unwillingly to allow his 


246 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


nephew to make his home at the family mansion, and so he 
was regarded as a member of the family ; and the fact of his 
having a room elsewhere was not suspected by either uncle 
or cousin. Only one in the house knew of it and that was 
his present companion, Roland St. Johns. The latter youth 
was walking the floor with hasty strides, looking the picture 
of chagrin and indignation. 

“But are you quite certain that it was Elsie? It is so 
unlike her, that I can hardly believe it ? ” 

“ So like her you mean. You don’t know her as well as 
I do. And as to there being any doubt, why, my dear fel- 
low, don’t you suppose I know the girl I was brought up 
with ? Besides, I tell you the horse was Gyp, and no other 
lady was ever on his back. No, no, it’s just as I tell you. ’ 

Roland stopped in his walk, and turning squarely round, 
he looked his comrade full in the face, his eyes glowing like 
coals. 

“I know it’s ungen tlemanly, as mother says, to swear at 
which remark his hearer’s lip perceptibly curled ; “but I 
say, ‘ damn him.’ The upstart ! I’ll have it out with him 
yet. Can’t we find out his name ? It must be one of those 
queer people she got acquainted with during the time she 
was laid up with her sprained ankle, when we were on be- 
fore.” 

“ Shouldn’t be surprised. In fact I think you’re right, and 
there’s apt to be something crooked about them or they 
wouldn’t want to keep hid. All right, old fellow,” slapping 
Roland heartily on the shoulder, “ we’ll spring a trap on 
the fellow yet, and perhaps be able to clap the darbies on 
him. He’s a foreign-looking fellow, a Pole or Italian, or 
something of that kind. They’re pretty easily scared, and 
if I were you, and felt toward my cousin as you do, and she 
a girl of a million, I tell you, why I’d just have a talk with 
the scoundrel, and ask him what he means.” 

“I should hke nothing better, but how shall I find out 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


247 


who he is ? Trust me if I get my eyes on him I’ll read him 
a lesson ; ” and here Roland looked very pugnacious, and 
his somewhat delicate physiognomy fairly flamed with 
righteous indignation. 

His companion smiled curiously to himself, to hide which, 
he turned to a drawer near him and seemed to be busy 
searching for something. Presently he produced a pack of 
cards, and throwing them on the table said, “ Let’s have a 
little game, to pass away the time. I expect Dick and 
maybe Tom here to-night.” 

“Well, I’m not very flush to-day, and Dick cleaned me 
out pretty well last week, and the old lady didn’t come 
down as freely as usual ; and indeed, I don’t know but I 
should have been left strapped, only, I luckily thought of 
the necessity of a new ventilating fan in the shaft of our 
gold mine, and her sympathy with the poor miners, suffer- 
ing for want of good air, reached her pocket ; but I shall 
have to go easy for a while, or she may suspect.” 

Here the two comrades laughed very heartily in concert, 
at something, and Esmond again clapped the other on the 
back. 

“ Upon my w^ord, old man, you’re improving, blessed if 
you ain’t. Pretty apt pupil I should say. So the fan brought 
the rocks, eh ? Good — well the mine wall need new ma- 
chinery soon, and don’t you forget it.” 

That night Elsie received a note from her cousin, stating 
that he had engaged a room at the hotel, as he wished to 
devote some of his evenings to the study of German and 
French, thinking they might be useful to him when he got 
into the bank. 

“ But I shall be at the Hermitage every day as usual, and 
sometimes stop there if you will allow me, but I feel that 
I must redeem some of the time wasted in youth by devot- 
ing at least a part of my evenings to study. Bear with me, 
Elsie, and help me, Elsie, as I know you will. I hope soon 


248 


THE RtrSSIAN^ REFUGEE. 


my uncle will give up his unjust suspicions. What a nice 
well-mannered, gentlemanly young man Mr. Roland St. 
Johns is ; I learn something from him every day, and I have 
been able, I think, to teach him a thing or two, having 
seen more of the world than he has. 

“ Ever your lo\dng cousin 

“H.\RRy.” 

Elsie could not refrain from telling Alf, who entered the 
room just then, what Harry said of her brother, at which 
that rather critical young lady opened her eyes very widely 
indeed. 

“ Roland teach Mr. Esmond some things — how prepos- 
terous — unless meant in sarcasm. The teaching on the other 
side is easy enough to understand, but our Roland teach- 
ing anybody ! I hope mother isn’t within earshot, or she 
would make it warm for me , but you know what I mean 
Elsie ; and the only hope of making anything of Roland is 
to get him a sensible, noble wife, who would develop the 
better side of him. I wish you could be the one, Elsie, I 
would so like you for a sister.” 

“ Thank you, dear, but Roland some of these days will 
meet with just the right one who will make you as good a 
sister, as she will Roland a wife.” 

“ It won’t be the same to me by any means. But I 'vvdsh, 
Elsie, you would use your influence, for I know he thinks 
the world of you, to try and keep him from going out so 
much in the evenings. I know I plague him a good deal, 
and you know he deserves it, but then he is our only 
brother,” and the speaker’s voice trembled a little, “ and I 
know he is weak and easily influenced by his associates, and 
sometimes I fear something dreadful will happen to him. 
Ma and Angie think he cannot go wrong, and believe all 
he says. I wish father was here.” 

Elsie managed to clear the way for her visit to Gretchen’s 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


249 


cottage on Monda^ afternoon, and, thinking it would attract 
less attention, decided to walk. Leaving the house quietly, 
she had gained the side road leading to the cottage when, 
to her dismay, she heard her name mentioned in the not- to- 
be-mistaken tones of Roland St. Johns. 

“ How delightful. I was out taking a stroll, you know, 
and just becoming bored with the trees and the birds and 
all that sort of thing — there’s so much of it — when I saw 
you in the distance. At first, I was not sure ; but it gradu- 
ally was forced upon me that it was yourself, and I was 
jolly glad, I tell you.” 

The young man spoke earnestly, and without a shade of 
embarrassment, which, considering that he had deliberately 
followed Elsie from the moment she left the house, showed 
he was improving in the deceptive art. 

Elsie tried hard not to feel annoyed, but yet it was im- 
possible to express pleasure at the accidental meeting. “ It 
is a dehghtful afternoon for a walk ; and so I have taken 
the opportunity for a little business errand, and shall meet 
you, I suppose, about tea-time.” 

Roland had some gentlemanly instincts, which had not 
yet become quite blunted, and his first impulse was to take 
the hint, and leave her to the solitude which she evidently 
desired ; but he was too much aroused by what Esmond had 
told him to be very nice in relation to minor points of po- 
liteness. 

‘‘ Oh, you will not be so cruel, I am sure,” he urged, in 
his most insinuating tones, ‘‘ as to condemn a fellow to a 
solitary ramble, when I should so enjoy accompanying you.” 

Elsie looked surprised and annoyed, and did not imme- 
diately answer, and so the young man resumed : 

“ Of course, I would not intrude upon you for the world ; 
but if you are only, as I suspect, going to pay one of your 
charity visits to one of those dear old ladies with the rheu- 
matics, or old men with the lame back, why, you know, I can 


250 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


easily stay outside — anywhere you like — until you are ready 
to return home.” 

Elsie had stopped as her companion pleaded, utterly per- 
plexed. Besides, she felt a vague sense of uneasiness, a sort 
of foreboding of evil, which she could not account for. Per- 
haps it was something peculiar in Boland’s manner. To be 
sure, he was even more polite than usual ; but his cheek was 
flushed, and his eyes had a light in them which she had not 
seen there before ; also, he spoke with a vivacity which 
was quite foreign to his usual languid style. An unpleasant 
suspicion crossed her mind, which was immediately con- 
firmed, when by chance his breath reached her face, as he 
bent toward her in his half-playful, half-earnest remon- 
strance. She remembered what Alf had said, and the sis- 
terly anxiety she had manifested as to her brother’s habits 
of late, coupled, as it was, with the earnest request that Elsie 
would advise him. For a moment she felt heart-sick at the 
thought of the possible downward road upon which this 
young man might have entered ; and this to have taken 
place while under their roof, and as their guest ! However, 
her strong common sense decided her line of action the in- 
stant he ceased speaking ; for his unusual loquacity gave her 
time to think. 

“ Mr. Boland, this is a private expedition, and I must go 
alone. Some other time, I shall be very glad of your com- 
pany. Besides,” she added hesitatingly, “I think you had 
better go into the shade and rest ; for you have become 
heated by walking fast under this hot sun, and if you should 
become sick it would dreadfully distress your mother.” 

“ Oh, I never felt better in my life. I’m not tied to the 
old lady’s apron-string, you know. I don’t mind the heat.” 

“ But I do not think you should speak of your mother as 
the ‘ old lady.’ It doesn’t sound very respectful, does it ? 
It would hurt her feelings if she heard you, her only son, 
talk that way.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


261 


Elsie spoke pleasantly, but in a way that showed her 
companion that she did not like his remarks. “How- 
ever, either you must turn back or I must. Which shall it 
be, Koland?” 

The young man looked sullen and baffled for a moment, 
and then answered, more in his usual manner : “ I go, cruel 
fair one ; but why will you be so severe toward one who is 
devoted to you ? Farewell.” 

Elsie laughed, saying: “Good-by, until tea-time,” and 
hurried forward to make up for lost time. She reached 
the cottage in a few moments, and found Gretchen and a 
gentleman sitting outside, under the big sycamore-tree 
which shaded one side of' the dwelling from the afternoon 
sun. She paused a second before going forward, for their 
faces were turned from her ; but a quick ear had detected 
her step and presence, and Alex, the Kussian hound, sprang 
joyfully forward, almost alarming her by his boisterous 
antics. His master at once rose to his feet. 

“ Alex does not forget you. See, Miss Hastings, you are 
a great favorite with him.” 

“ The one dear young lady ! Mein Gott, everybody und 
everyding feel goot mit Miss Elsie ! ” exclaimed the genial 
Gretchen, as she moved forward with all the speed that her 
rotundity permitted. 

The trio, with Alex, were soon seated under the grate- 
ful shade of the noble tree, asking and answering ques- 
tions. 

“ Miss Hastings, it would have pleased your kind heart 
to have witnessed the coming into the cave of Ivan Sobi- 
eski.” And the speaker’s face glowed with the memories 
he was recalhng. “ It was sublime ! After ten years, and 
such a ten years, to see his wife and his child ! The little 
Sophia, that was only a baby, and now — now, almost a young 
woman ! ” 

“ I would have given anything to have seen the poor fel- 


252 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


low and Nadia and little Sophia together at that first meet- 
ing,” said Elsie, in sympathizing tones. 

Ach, mein Gott ! why wasn’t I there ? Ivan will know 
me. Ivan will know Gretchen, Sophia’s foster-m udder.” 

“ Why, did you know Ivan, Sophia’s father ? ” asked Elsie, 
in surprise. 

“ No, Gretchen never met him, although he was over here 
as a special envoy from the Grand Circle when Sophia was 
barely three years of age, but only remained a few weeks, 
and on his return to St. Petersburg was immediately ar- 
rested and sent to the mines.” 

Adolph answered for Gretchen, who had meant, Elsie 
began to understand, that Ivan must necessarily know of 
her through her intimacy with his wife and child. 

Elsie learned from the visitor that Ivan and the Patriarch 
were very anxious to consult "Mr. Hastings with reference 
to the former becoming a citizen of the Eepublic, and as to 
what degree of peril he would incur by appearing openly. 
It seemed he had decided never again to visit his native 
land, but to make his home in the United States. 

Elsie knew that her father had been educated for a legal 
career, but on concluding his professional studies had de- 
cided not to practise ; and so she knew that he could advise 
this poor escaped exile what he had best do under the 
peculiar circumstances. 

After some general conversation, and a little business 
matter concerning Hiram, who was out on one of his trap- 
ping expeditions, had been attended to for her father, 
Elsie, accompanied by Adolph, left Gretchen’s cottage for 
home. Her companion, she was satisfied, had something 
special to tell her, from his manner ; but he seemed to 
shrink from coming to the point. At last she happened to 
give him the necessary lead and help by saying : 

“Mr. Adolph, I have thought since our last meeting, 
that perhaps you and your father might like to have some 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


253 


of our papers or magazines ; if so, we should be ever so 
pleased to lend them to you ? ” 

His color rose, but whether with anger or pleasure she 
could not decide ; yet hardly the former, for it would be un- 
like him to resent such an offer. 

“ I was about to ask you a favor like that, but you open 
the door for me. Thank you so much. Miss Hastings. We 
would be glad. We both read English,” he said, with just 
a show of pride ; my father very well, for me not so well, 
but I want to be more educated than I am. I would like 
some books of science.” He slowly emphasized the word. 
“ I am fond of nature, I would like to know about the rocks 
and plants. I do know something about them ; but other 
men must have found out a great deal about these things, 
and I would like to know what they have found out. Ever 
since you told me of the discovery which the German 
scholar had made about the older rocks, I have wanted to 
take up that study.” 

“ Why, I never mentioned that to you, did I? ” she asked, 
in a perplexed manner. “ I remember quoting that in a 
conversation with a stranger last winter ; but surely ” — and 
she regarded him fixedly — “ surely you cannot be the gentle- 
man who caught my horse for me last winter, and helped 
me out of the snow-bank. How ridiculous ! I verily be- 
heve you are, and I have never recognized you before. It 
was you, was it not ? ” 

The Russian looked at her puzzled face with an amused 
smile. I am afraid it was ; but I unwittingly have brought 
that incident to your memory. I did not think of it when 
I spoke.” 

“ I am so glad you have cleared up the mystery, for 
I was sure I had seen you somewhere before the night 
of the fire, and this explains it. But you looked so dif- 
ferent?” 

“ Yes, I wore a full Russian winter costume, full beard, 


254 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


and all, but not any mask. Perhaps you think the beard 
was mask enough ? ” and he laughed quietly. 

“ Mr. Adolph, I know you don’t like to be thanked, or I 
would thank you again for the help you afforded me that 
day. But about the books. I will bring you books on 
geology and botany.” 

“And American history, please. I want to take up a 
course of study and educate myself. My life, as you know, 
has been peculiar.” 

“lam glad you like history, it is a favorite study of 
mine ; and I will bring you a volume I am satisfied you will 
like, giving both the facts and the philosophy in connection 
with the development of the land of the free.” 

“Many, many thanks. But when shall we see you and 
your father at our home ? ” 

“ My father will go to see you, I think, shortly ; but we 
cannot very well both leave at the same time, having guests 
at present. I will send the books to Gretchen, with a note 
saying when father will go to the Cave.” 

They walked in silence for a few moments, as Elsie 
observed that her companion seemed to be inwardly wrest- 
ling with some train of thought, so absorbed and absent- 
minded did he appear. Presently he looked at her with an 
apologetic smile. 

“Pardon me, but my thoughts were troubled about 
something, and I have committed a rudeness in seeming to 
be inattentive.” 

“ Not at all ; but perhaps I can help to solve your prob- 
lem. Suppose you try me ? That is,” she quickly added, 
“if it is nothing particularly secret.” 

“Then I will tell you, if I may. I was thinking how un- 
kindly Fortune treats some of her children. She brings 
some up in strange and obscure abodes, like moles or rab- 
bits, with very little education and no social advantages, 
and yet gives them a nature which aspires and longs for the 


THE liUSSIAH KEFUGEE. 


255 


highest and the best there is, yearning to burst the bonds 
which trammel and hinder them, and to stand among 
God’s freemen. And to others, whose natures are no bet- 
ter, often much inferior, she gives birth, education, train- 
ing, social position, everything. Why is it so ? ” 

He clenched his hand and made a rapid gesture as if 
the injustice of it burned into his very soul. 

She answered gently and soothingly, for her keen sense 
of the mocking inconsistencies of life fully justified his 
feeling of irritation smarting under the sense of wrong. 
“ ‘ Men give titles, but nature gives true rank ; circum- 
stances give position, but God endows the soul ; accident 
gives opportunity, but ability makes it.’ My father gave 
me this to wiite for a copy when I was a child, and I have 
never forgotten it. Those who have developed and grown 
in obscurity have, also, escaped, the soul-staining vices 
which infest and poison society. Many of our young men 
who go through college, so my father says, acquire vicious 
habits which far more than counterbalance the educational 
advantages they have had. Yet I fear I cannot make my 
thoughts plain ; but I feel very strongly that the education, 
training, social position, wealth — all of which the world 
values so highly, are not for a moment to be weighed 
against natural intelligence, integrity, courage, and what 
we call the moral qualities.” 

His kindling glances and intense expression of interest, 
showed how he appreciated her words. 

“ I cannot dissemble to you. I have spoken of my own 
fate, and would fain take comfort from your noble words, 
if I dared think they could apply to my case in any degree ; 
but I fear not. I am ambitious. I would soar high. I would 
be worthy of the best social life. But alas ! I am chained 
to a rock, and can neither break the chain nor lift the 
stone.” 

‘‘ Mr. Adolph, I have read somewhere of a poor prisoner. 


256 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


wlio was bound by cruel fetters, and held by a clanking 
chain to the wall of his cell. Without was the sunshine, 
the birds, the flowers, friendship, home, and freedom. A 
friend carried him a small file hidden in a glove. That 
tiny instrument ate through the binding, cramping fetters, 
and through the solid links of the hideous chains, and the 
captive was free. Can you not find a file and use it? Surely 
it is worth while ; freedom lies beyond.” 

His form seemed to expand and take on greater altitude, 
as he asked, with dilating eyes : 

“ Was it a lady’s glove that held the file ? Oh, please tell 
me, for if so, I may indeed hope.” 

She held out her hand, saying : 

“ It was. — Good-by.” For they had reached the turn of 
the road in sight of her home. 

He raised the hand to his lips, fervently saying, “ God 
bless you, I have found the file,” lifted his cap and walked 
rapidly away. 

When Elsie parted from Koland St. Johns his truer in- 
stincts of right and politeness urged him homeward, and 
indeed he proceeded for a few moments rapidly in that di- 
rection. But the unfortunate glass of liquor which he had 
taken, “just to steady his nerves,” and the heat of the day 
soon made the quick movements unpleasant, and so he 
sought the grateful shade which a clump of bushes and a 
large beech-tree made, and w^as soon asleep. He was awak- 
ened by the sound of voices in his vicinity, and, as his mind 
began to clear, he easily detected the tones of Miss Has- 
tings’ voice speaking earnestly to some one. At one time 
he would have pronounced it ungentlemanly to play eaves- 
dropper, but now Boland was too intensely interested in 
Elsie’s movements to have any scruple, and so moved into 
such a position that he could partly hear what was said, 
and at the same time obtain a fair view of the speakers. 
The conversation was rather obscure to him, but his sus- 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


257 


picions were confirmed and his jealousy burned with in- 
creased intensity. 

“ Harry was right when he put me up to following her.” 
And here the young man indulged in some strong expres- 
sions with reference to Elsie’s companion, which indicated 
how thoroughly his worst passions were aroused. He de- 
cided to follow them, and if opportunity offered, “ talk to 
that fellow.” 

In his excited condition he could not see how utterly ab- 
surd such a proceeding would be, but that “glass” still 
influenced his brain sufficiently to destroy all prudence. 
When he witnessed their parting, he was more furious than 
ever, for it so exactly confirmed what Esmond had narrated 
and which Roland had really doubted. 

The Russian had traversed about a quarter of a mile 
after leaving Elsie, when he was astonished to see a gen- 
tleman, whose breathing gave indications of rapid walking, 
or even running, step into the path before him and signal 
him to stop by raising his hand. 

“I wish to speak to you for a few moments, my good 
^fellow,” said the stranger, whose voice showed him to be 
decidedly out of breath. 

Adolph paused immediately, and bowed courteously, in- 
quiring the nature of the business. 

“ May I ask you your name, if you please, and when you 
first became acquainted with Miss Hastings ? ” 

This was demanded in Roland’s most aristocratic style, 
the manner in which he usually addressed servants or those 
he considered inferiors. 

Adolph, who at first had seemed a little disconcerted, 
flushed angrily as the speaker concluded his insolent ques- 
tions, and taking a quick step toward him, demanded : 

“ And who are you, sir, I would like to know, that pre- 
sumes, in this manner, to question me ? ” 

The calm, imperative tone of the Russian, and the air of 
17 


258 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


disdain with which he uttered his words, lashed Roland 
beyond all prudential considerations. 

“ Because, sir, I believe you to be an impostor and an 
upstart, that has contrived by some underhand means to 
win Miss Hastings’ confidence. But it is time that her 
friends interfere. What right have you, I demand, to dare 
to speak to her ; you don’t belong to her class. She is a 
lady of education and standing. Keep your attentions for 
those in your own class.” 

His hearer stood still as a rock during this tirade, paling 
and flushing alternately, but as the other concluded he 
sprang forward, and placing his left hand on Roland’s right 
shoulder, he held him in a grasp of iron. Then, his eyes blaz- 
ing like fiery globes, he hissed in low, determined tones : 

“ I take such language from no man. Take those words 
back at once.” 

“ Release me, you insolent scoundrel,” returned the other, 
who was not deficient in natural courage when aroused, and 
was also something of a boxer, having spent considerable 
time in cultivating the manly art. “ You won’t ? then take 
that ! ” aiming his left hand full at the Russian’s head. 

His blow was avoided by a quick movement of his an- 
tagonist’s head, and the next instant Roland was raised off 
his feet entirely, and hurled to the ground with a force that 
left him quivering like a jelly. Then, while lying on his 
back, half stunned, he heard a voice above him say, in mock- 
ing tones : 

“ When you ask my name and business again, you will 
perhaps have learned to act like a gentleman. Good-by. 
Who is the impostor and upstart now ? ” 

So saying, Adolph strode away, and yet with a troubled, 
vexed look upon his face, in marked contrast to the cheer- 
ful aspect he had worn ten minutes before. 

After a minute or so, the would-be champion of the 
social position, lifted himself slowly and painfully into a 


THE KUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


259 


sitting postee and gazed around. He had been hurled to 
the earth so quickly and forcibly that, although by no means 
a weakly man, yet he knew he had been but a child in the 
powerful grasp of his antagonist. 

“ The strong brute ! Like all of his class they keep their 
muscles so well developed by labor, that it gives them, oc- 
casionally, an advantage over their betters. Ugh ! but that 
shoulder stings ; he wrenched it badly.” 

So saying, the young man rose to his feet and went 
homeward, muttering imprecations on his foe. But the ef- 
fect of the whiskey had now disappeared, and the defeated 
youth, in spite of his wath, could not help an uncomfortable 
feeling that he had made a fool of himself, and been justly 
punished. He had, too, a feehng that he had angered Elsie 
by his persistent efforts to force his society upon her. 
Again, the han'owing thought, that he had grossly insulted 
onewith whom the young mistress of the Hermitage was on 
terms of decided friendship, would persist in obtruding 
itself. Altogether he reached his room in a state of mind 
which rendered him quite oblivious of any physical suffer- 
ing as a result of his severe bruises and the shock he had 
experienced. 

He decided not to meet the family at dinner, and leaving 
an excuse of going out to dine, after hastily changing his 
dress, he started for the village, to take counsel with his 
friend Esmond. He found that cheerful gentleman in his 
room, and was soon narrating his adventure. 

“ St. Johns, I never dreamed you were such an infernal 
fool ; I put it mild, you observe, for my inclination is to use 
language which would be more equal to the occasion. Why, 
what right had you to call him to account ; and you might 
have known that he would not stand everything ! If Elsie 
finds this out I am afraid it is all over with you.” 

“I begin to think I have made a fool of myself,” said the 
now thoroughly mortified Roland, who had felt sure that 


260 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


his companion would fully indorse his action and commend 
him for his valor ; “ but I lay it on that glass of whiskey 
which you advised my taking.” 

“ Stuff and nonsense ; why damn it, man, can’t you stand 
a glass of bitters without making an ass of yourself ? I ad- 
vised you to take it, without supposing you were such a 
milksop. There, keep cool. I suggested it just to steady 
your nerves, and you go — ha ! ha ! ha ! ! ! ” and here the 
speaker threw himself upon the sofa and indulged in a pro- 
longed peal of laughter, which incensed the other almost 
beyond endurance. 

“ I don’t think you ought to laugh at me, anyway. You 
advised my going to watch them, and it was very natural I 
should lose my temper to see that scoundrel spooning 
around Elsie.” 

Eoland said this so piteously, that the other really felt 
some compassion for him and changed his tactics. 

“ Cheer up, old chap, it was very natural after all. Don’t 
know but I might have tackled him myself, if I’d seen ’em 
together. But I can make it all right yet, only Elsie must 
not know of this meeting or it will work bad for our cause, 
for women always admire the fellow who whips, and accord- 
ing to the latest returns that fellow wasn’t Eoland St. Johns.” 

“ Well, what do you propose doing. How will you keep 
it from Elsie ? He’ll be sure to tell her ! said his list- 
ener, despondingly. 

“ Oh, you leave that to me. This footing’s got to stop. 
I’ll have to exert my cousinly authority, and if that doesn’t 
do, I’ye another card to play, and it’s a right bower and is 
sure to take the trick every time. But you’ve had no din- 
ner I guess ? ” 

The other admitted the fact, and indeed now began to 
feel the need of refreshment. 

“ Well, I’ll just order a nice little dinner to be sent up, 
and then I’ll tell you my plans.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


A CRISIS. 

The Hermitage, Monday. 

Dear Sir : With this you will receive the books I promised you, 
and I am sure you will find them of great help in your studies. 
Anything father or I can do to assist you in your work will be a 
pleasure to us, and I do hope you will not be backward in seeking 
such aid. I allude more particularly to my father, I being a learner 
myself. Father says he purposes visiting you on Wednesday, if you 
will meet him at the same place and time, to conduct him to the 
Cave. Home duties will hinder me from accompanying him, which 
I much regret. 

Faithfully yours, 

Elsie Hastings. 

In consequence of this note, Mr. Hastings found himself 
again in the underground mansion, as he termed it, on 
Wednesday morning about eleven o’clock, having been duly 
met and conducted there by Adolph. He was introduced to 
the new inmate, Ivan, a fine, tall, very muscular looking fellow 
of about forty. Coal-black hair and eyes, and a deep, swarthy 
complexion, together with a certain quick, watchful, alert 
bearing, gave him somewhat the appearance — Mr. Hastings 
at first thought — of a wild Cossack leader, but a further 
acquaintance proved him to be mild mannered and of cour- 
teous speech. An aii’ of dogged, almost sullen submission, 
as if everything he said or did was under duress, was, the 
visitor thought, quite noticeable at first ; but this gradually 
passed away, or was not so marked, as he became interested 
in the conversation. 


262 


TFIE KUSSIAK REFUGEE. 


The Patriarch’s bright eyes shone with added brilliancy 
on meeting his guest. 

“ Your coming is refreshing, my son, as the dew on the 
flowers. You bring light to our household.” 

Soon the party of gentlemen were engaged in earnest 
conversation, and Mr. Hastings was pleased and surprised 
to find that the fugitive from Siberia spoke English very 
well, having learned it from a fellow-prisoner during his 
bondage. 

The visitor, after carefully listening to the details of the 
case, was glad to be able to assure them that Ivan need 
have no apprehensions of re-arrest, supposing he should be 
tracked by the Kussian detectives. 

“ Your offence being purely political, not criminal, and, 
as you say, you were merely arrested and condemned as 
being a member of a society known to be inimical to the 
government, but no positive proof adduced of your com- 
plicity in the alleged guilt of your associates, you are not a 
convict in any sense over here, and your case does not 
come under the extradition laws.” 

“ But will American law acquit me if I kill the man 
who tries to arrest me ? ” asked the escaped Russian, 
eagerly. 

“ Certainly, unless he has a proper warrant. Without 
that you can resist to the best of your ability, and in any 
case don’t be arrested if you can help it. And should 
such attempt be made, immediately notify me or some 
other magistrate or lawyer.” 

“ Then the man who tries to take me will have a warm 
time,” returned the sinewy-looking foreigner, touching sig- 
nificantly a pistol in his belt. 

As Mr. Hastings looked at this powerfully built man, 
with his muscles like iron from constant exercise, and that 
tremendous pent up energy which seemed to flash out at 
each motion, accompanied with the expressed determina- 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 263 

tion never to be taken alive, he realized what a formidable 
antagonist he would prove in case of emergency. 

“ I should suggest that you go before the proper’ officer 
in Melville, and declare your intentions of becoming a citi- 
zen of the United States, and take out the necessary papers. 
I think you said you intended to remain permanently in 
this country ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; I shall never return to the false mother who 
treats her children so badly. I stay here forever.” 

Ivan had not suffered the degradation and physical in- 
jury of being flogged, although most of his companions had. 
One of them, who had been sentenced to four thousand 
strokes, died soon after from the terrible shock and fever 
which ensued. He said when a large number of strokes 
are to be suffered, the convict can elect to take them in two 
instalnaents, or even more if he chooses, the second dose 
to be given on recovery from the results of the first. Few 
entirely recovered from the effects of the frightful punish- 
ment when the number of strokes was four thousand or 
upward, and if not so divided the life would, in most in- 
stances, be sacrificed. Not having to undergo this inflic- 
tion, and being rather a favorite among the officials, Ivan 
had come from his ten years’ captivity in comparatively 
good health and strength. He declared that a few months 
in the air of freedom would restore him, he felt confident, 
to more than his original vigor. 

Nadia and the little maiden came in after a while, and it 
was delightful to the visitor to see the fond, clinging affec- 
tion of the reunited parent and child. Sophia sat with her 
arm in her father’s, chirping to him in the — to one listener 
at least — strange-sounding vernacular of the Muscovites, 
but yet pleasant to the ear, as the expression of sympathy 
and affection ever must be whatever the tongue employed. 

The guest asked a number of questions about life in Si- 
beria, which were answered in full by the ex-convict. 


264 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Ivaii had to wear leg-chains, or fetters, during the entire 
time, as had all the prisoners. These did not, he said, in- 
terfere very seriously with locomotion or work, but gave an 
ever-present sense of degradation and hindrance. The 
prison was situated near a large military station or fortress, 
and the inmates numbered about three hundred. There 
were nearly all grades of criminality represented, from the 
cold-blooded murderer to the mere pickpocket and the 
tramp. There were men of education and refinement, who 
in a moment of passion or jealousy had committed a crime ; 
and hardened highway robbers, who could neither read nor 
write, sullen and brutal fellows, only waiting opportunity 
for the commission of fresh crime. Those who had com- 
mitted a capital crime were placed in the Special Depart- 
ment. The political prisoners were treated somewhat 
more leniently, but this largely depended upon the officer 
or “ major ” in charge. Singular enough, Ivan said, that 
more than half of them could read and write well. Many 
of the convicts were sentenced to spend a certain number 
of years in the prison, and then sent to one of the convict 
colonies for the rest of their lives, free to engage in any 
occupation they chose, but not permitted to leave the lo- 
cality. Certainly the majority of the convicts, so far as he 
could discover, the refugee said, were sentenced to per- 
petual exile after the term of their punishment had expired. 
Many of these were branded on the brow, an ever-abiding 
evidence of their shame, and society had cast them off for- 
ever. They averaged about ten years in the prison. Many 
were military prisoners, only sent for short terms, for in- 
subordination or deeds of violence, and then returned to 
theii’ regiments. But those in the Special Department had 
been condemned to penal servitude for life. 

“How much longer did you have to serve? ” asked Mr. 
Hastings, who was deeply interested in this recital of a life 
which is little known to the outside world. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


265 


“Two years more. I was in on a ten years’ sentence,” 
replied Ivan. 

He fui-ther, in answer to another question, described their 
garb, each department having a peculiar uniform, two 
colors generally being used — jackets half brown and half 
gi’ay, and trousers to match, and some had gray coats with 
dark-brown sleeves. The heads of all convicts had to be 
shaved, but even this was peculiai*, some having half the 
head shaved laterally, while others had the front part only 
shaved from ear to ear, giving a preternatural expanse of 
forehead. 

“ My impression of the great majority of the Siberian 
convicts has been that the larger part were pretty good 
fellows, hot-headed, imprudent, and impulsive, perhaps, 
but yet not criminal in the worst sense of the word ? ” re- 
marked the visitor, inquiringly. 

The Russian shook his head impressively as he an- 
swered. 

“ Not so, Mr. Hastings ; my experience goes to show that 
the largest part of the convicts were terribly depraved, and 
society was well rid of them.” 

‘‘ But surely that would not apply to the political pris- 
oners, sent there for similar offences to your own ? ” 

“ No, not in most cases ; but after all, many of these men 
are fanatical, unreasoning, revengeful, and often atrociously 
cruel. Of course the infamous system of administering the 
laws, as well as the iu justice of many of the laws themselves, 
is largely accountable for this demoralization of people who, 
under a better, more equitable system of rule, might be 
good, useful citizens.” 

“1 think our mistake has been,” said Mr. Hastings, “in 
supposing that most of the prisoners sent to Siberia were 
suffering for political reasons, when it is really a great 
penal settlement for all Russia.” 

These points of information were brought out in answer 


266 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE, 


to various questions, during the time the visitor spent in 
the Cave. Adolph often joined in the conversation, and 
IVIr. Hastings was struck by the discernment and good sense 
he evinced, generally going at once to the foundation of the 
subject. 

“ Our friend has been sadly used by his countrymen,” 
remarked the Patriarch, and his escape is wonderful, and 
he must tell you about it some time ; but unfortunately, 
there are many interesting details that can only be related 
to members of the order. I have hoped that perhaps we 
shall be able to count you and your dear child among the 
friends of Kussia.” 

“ Indeed, we are both friends of Kussia, and as Amer- 
icans, must be deeply interested in any country so bound 
down, crushed, and humiliated by despotic power as yours 
is. I have thought over what you told me, and read the 
little work you sent me, and do not see anything to hinder 
us from joining you as associate members. By associate 
members, I understand those who are not bound to carry 
out any orders which conflict with their own sense of jus- 
tice, expediency, and right ? ” 

“Exactly,” said the Exile; “after you are initiated you 
remain free as before, so far as action is concerned. You 
simply bind yourselves to reveal nothing imparted to you 
in connection with the circle or its friends, and to aid 
them, in every way that your conscience and judgment ap- 
proves, in furthering the great ends in view — the freedom 
of Russia and her emancipation from the slavery in which 
despotism, misrule, ignorance, bigotry, and superstition 
have so long held her. ’ There are, as you know from the 
pamphlet, two circles, an outer and an inner. In the 
former, members are merely associate and as much at lib- 
erty as before. In the latter, members are bound to obey 
aU orders, but can always appeal from any command if they 
so desire. We have scores of associate or outer- circle 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


267 


members in this country, friends of freedom who say with 
one of your writers, “ The world is my country. To do 
good is my religion.” 

So it was decided that the proprietor of the Hermitage and 
his daughter should become associate members of the “ Eed 
Circle,” and be initiated the following Friday morning, if 
nothing intervened. As Mi\ Hastings explained to his 
child on retuiming home, and informing her of the arrange- 
ment : 

“I suppose some of my friends would think us fairly de- 
mented, joining a sort of social order at the solicitation of 
a few foreigners, whom we had known such a brief period, 
and under such singular cii'cumstances. But I feel deeply 
for these people, and most thoroughly sympathize with 
their object. Besides, we are under such weighty obliga- 
tions that I am glad to please them by such a trifling thing 
as joining their organization.” 

“I am delighted, father, that you have agreed to this. I 
have wished it very much indeed, for it will enable us to 
influence and advise these noble friends for their good ; for 
belonging to their order will give them confidence in us.” 

I have done it largely to please you, my dear, and also 
for the reason you speak of. Joining the circle is a matter 
of very little importance to us, while to them, in their 
simple way of living and gauging things, it is of much im- 
portance.” 

Elsie’s heart felt light and joyous, and yet she could 
hardly account for her buoyant feehngs. To be sure she 
was much attached to the Cave friends, and rejoiced at the 
prospect of giving them pleasure, and also being brought 
into closer acquaintanceship with them. But she felt that 
this was not the sole cause of her good spirits. The St. 
Johns were about returning to town, preparatory to their 
annual sojourn at the ocean, and Elsie felt gi*eatly relieved 
at the thought of their departure. And it was not any re- 


268 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


proacli to her hospitality or friendship that these feelings 
came unbidden, and were uppermost in her mind ; for she 
was strongly attached to her guests, and with her hospitality 
was a duty and a pleasure. But she had felt strangely 
nervous and anxious concerning Boland lately, and wished 
him away from possibly evil influences. Then, again, his 
attentions to herself for some time had been so marked 
as to permit only one construction, and this pained 
her exceedingly. And she could not disguise from herself 
that her time had been so little at her command for the 
last few weeks, that her usual daily ride or walk had been 
largely abandoned, and, in consequence, many of her humble 
friends had been neglected. 

We are such creatiu’es of habit ! and Elsie’s rides and 
walks, and visits to certain poor folks that she had known 
from childhood, had become so essentially a part of her 
life, that somehow existence seemed to be in a degree 
empty and vacant, and she felt like one who, after a period 
of sickness and forced inactivity looks forward to a rapid 
convalescence. 

The St. Johns were to start next morning, and Boland 
was disconsolate. In vain had he pleaded with his mother 
to be allowed to stay behind, urging that if it would not 
do to longer trespass on the hospitality of the Hermitage, 
he would stay at the hotel in Melville, where Harry Esmond 
was. 

But his mother had her own reasons for proving obdu- 
rate. So much money had been spent by Boland lately in 
one way and another, and the assessments for mining pur- 
poses were so frequent that she felt that she would like to 
be home again, and have Boland there too. 

“ Well, I shall come down to see you once a week any- 
how, old fellow,” the young man remarked to Esmond, as 
he shook that astute friend by the hand at the hotel on the 
afternoon in question. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


269 


Of course you will, and I will look after your interests 
over there ; ” pointing significantly with his thumb in the 
direction of his uncle’s abode. “ You’re my friend, and I 
am going to see justice done you, I am. Don’t be down- 
hearted, man. I give you my word no dirty, ignorant for- 
eigner is going to cut out any friend of mine, not if this 
court knows itself,” and the speaker looked so manly and 
dignified, and spoke in such an oracular way that Koland 
took on new courage and helped himself to another glass 
of wine, which had been ordered up by the owner of the 
room to do honor to the guest and the occasion. 

But yet a few hours later Koland, as said above, felt 
very disconsolate. What might happen while he was 
away ? That hateful Kussian ! — for now he had satisfied 
himself as to the nationality of his enemy, although he had 
not been so successful in locating him, for no one seemed 
to know where he lived, although known by sight to many 
in Melville. And he had found, too, to his dismay, that 
many regarded him as a hero, and held grateful remem- 
brance of his coolness and courage on the night of the 
Town-Hall fire. 

Young St. Johns would dearly like to have given him 
another piece of his mind, and a second warning ; but the 
memory of that strong arm was too vivid, and although 
not exactly timid, yet he dared not meet that face and 
hand again. A bright idea came to him. “ I will write to 
him, and then I can put it as strong as I please.” First, 
however, he decided to seek a private interview with Elsie, 
and so, as the evening was cool and pleasant and inviting, 
he proposed a stroll. 

“ I think Alf would hke to go too, let me ask her ? ” 
said the young lady, anxious to avoid a private walk, if 
possible, on this last evening. 

But R^and was equal to the occasion, and displayed a 
readiness of resource which Elsie had not anticipated. 


270 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“Well, you go and put on your hat, while I ask Alf. I 
know where she is.” 

There was no alternative ; and so the young woman dis- 
appeared in quest of the hat, feeling sure that she and Ro- 
land would have the walk alone. 

“ Mamma does not wish Alf to go out just yet, but they % 
will all go out with us when we return, or perhaps come to 
meet us,” said the young diplomat, when she reappeared 
ready for the walk. 

There was nothing for it but to face the inevitable, and 
so Elsie put the best face on the matter she could, but it 
was not quite so sunny a face as usual. She had a woman’s 
intuitive perception of what might happen, and wished to 
avoid inflicting pain ; in short, naturally shrank from what 
might be a very unpleasant experience. 

“Elsie,” began her companion, abruptly, causing her to 
look at him rather anxiously, as if fearful that he might 
have again resorted to artificial means to give him courage, 

“ why do you try to avoid me ? and why did you want Alf 
to come with us just now ? Are you,” and here the young 
man assumed an air of injured pride, “ ashamed to be seen 
alone with me ? ” 

The air and tone were so pompous that Elsie’s risibilities 
were sorely tried, but she managed to answer quietly : 

“ How ridiculous, Roland ; how could such a thing enter 
your head ? ” 

“Well, ah — well — I thought it might be possible, but I 
allow it is highly improbable, you know. But, Elsie, you 
must allow that you have not given me a fair show ; now 
have you ? ” 

“ A fair show ! What do you mean ? Please don’t speak 
in riddles ; but you always did like to tease.” 

“No, ’pon honor, I’m in earnest this time. You know I 
think everything of you, and yet I’ve been here six weeks 
and only had two walks with you.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


271 


“Two walks ! Why we’ve been out walking nearly every 
day together ! ” 

“ Oh, yes ! ” he exclaimed, pettishly ; “but you know what 
I mean. Mamma and the girls were alyrays present. 
We’ve only had about two private walks that amounted to 
anything, and it’s too bad.” 

She laughed heartily, at which he seemed highly indig- 
nant, so she hastened to atone by saying : 

“ But you’ll be here often, and there’ll be many opportu- 
nities in the fall when you come to see us again.” 

“Yes, but that isn’t the thing. I want to say something 
to you special, and have been waiting for a chance this ^ 
ever so long.” 

“ Let us wait until we return to the house for the special 
thing, and then I shan’t be so likely to forget it. Isn’t that 
a pretty clump of trees over there ? I have never seen a 
bit of landscape anywhere quite equal to that.” 

He regarded her reproachfully, as if surprised at her 
levity at that particular time, and answered, rather tartly : 

“Why, you must have seen that a million times, and 
speak as if you had only just discovered its beauty. It is, 

I suppose, what would be called aw — rather pretty. Elsie, 
mother says I ought to get married and settle down, and I 
begin to think she’s half right. What do you think about it ? ” 

“ What an idea — as if I could give an opinion on such a 
point. Well, I’ll try and think some of these times what 
kind of a wife you ought to have, and write and tell you. 
How win that do ? Now, perhaps, we had better be turn- 
ing homeward, it looks something like rain.” 

“•Not yet a while. Please sit down on this rock and rest. 
It’s not going to rain.” 

So saying they sat down at a point which commanded 
a fine view of the country leading toward the Great Glen, 
which could just be noted by a practised eye by the deep 
fringe of woods which outlined it in the distance. 


272 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Now, Elsie, there is no need for you or any one else to 
look out a wife for me. I’ve done that for myself, and I think 
I’ve just hit it. You’re the one, Elsie — the one girl in all 
the world for me.” 

His hearer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, at this 
unmistakable declaration of preference, for she felt like 
doing both, and she saw the young man was as much in 
earnest as one of his nature could be, and then she half sus- 
pected, from one or two expressions she had heard, that the 
mother and sisters were with him in this matter. She re- 
mained silent, thinking that he might yet give her a chance 
of escape without committing herseK. 

“ Why don’t you answer me, Elsie ? You know I love you 
better than all the world, and will make you the best of 
husbands. Mother always said I was just the one to make 
a woman happy. Come, now, say when it shall be, and 
then if you’ll let me. I’ll light a cigar, and we’ll go home 
and tell them it’s aU settled.” 

“ Now, Eoland, you must put such thoughts out of your 
head. You and I would never do together, we’re not 
adapted to each other at aU. W’’hy, we hardly think alike 
on any one point. No, I cannot listen to you about this 
matter. Let us talk about something else,” as he attempted 
to remonstrate eagerly. “ You will find someone you will 
like ever so much better Uian me. Won’t you promise me 
to try and forget this talk, and we shall be just as good 
friends as ever ? ” 

His manner changed at once, as he saw how quietly res- 
olute she was, and he knew her well enough to know that 
she meant every word she said. He turned aside for a 
moment so that she could not see his face, and then wheel- 
ing sharply round, with lowering brow and a fierce light 
gleaming in his eyes, he hissed out angrily : 

“It’s that whelp of a Russian that has come between us. 
He’s crossed my path. Let him beware.” His voice fairly 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


273 


shook with a passion she had never suspected he could 
exhibit, and the last sentence was husky with excitement. 
She naturally felt indignant, and no longer thought of 
soothing him. 

“If you are going to talk that way I shall leave you. 
You are unjust.” 

She had remarked, during the past few weeks, how thor- 
oughly changed, indeed, young St. Johns had become. 

'^‘The affected, languid manner which had once distinguished 
him, had given place to a nervous fretfulness of tone and 
bearing which showed a heart ill at ease. He was, to be 
sure, still the conceited fop at times, but, since associating 
with Harry Esmond, his style had been modified by de- 
grees, and the drawl and affectation of London snobbeiy 
had largely disappeared, and been replaced by a certain 
craftiness of mien and a slangy repertoire which savored of 
the mining camps, or the fast life of Western cities. The 
truth was, Koland belonged to that class of humanity 
which naturally take to wearing livery. Lacking strong 
individuality themselves, they instinctively seek a master, 
and having found him, soon sport his colors, and wear his 
coat-of-arms in manner and language. Like the genus 
Hyla in zoology, they become so like the tree on which 
they rest, that they seem a part of it. 

The young man we are speaking of was imitative and 
receptive, and was moulded by the society in which he 
moved. He was now arrayed in Harry Esmond’s livery, 
just as he had been previously attired in that of some fast 
young men in the city who had been to “ YuiTup ” long 
enough to catch the mincing air and lingual imbecility of 
the English capital. Elsie’s manner partly brought him 
to his senses, and he hastened to atone for his hasty words. 

“ Forgive me, but I love you, you must know, and can- 
not help feeling dreadfully when a fellow like that comes 
between us.” 

18 


274 


THE KUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


He spoke so pitifully that she half relented her tempo- 
rary show of resentment ; but yet she realized instinctively 
that matters had come to such a pass now, that further 
temporizing was out of the question. She felt that she 
must speak plainly, very plainly, and so preclude the pos- 
sibility of a repetition of this scene. 

“ Mr. Koland, let us understand each other thoroughly. 
You have asked me to marry you. Let me urge you to 
put away such an idea once and for all. It can never be. 
We are not adapted to each other in any way. Our ideas 
differ on nearly every point.” 

He broke in on her words, impetuously. 

“ I know, Elsie, I am not worthy of you. I am not what 
I ought to be, but you can make anything of me you wish. 
I shall be devoted to you. Only say you will, you will 
give me a hope, and I will do anything you wish. You can 
save me and make a man of me.” 

All the affectation and foppery were gone, and for once 
the much indulged and petted young man spoke from his 
very soul. Like all weak natures, he gravitated toward her 
strong life, and felt almost like one drowning, who sees the 
plank which he had agonized to reach slowly floating away 
on the tide, going farther and farther from his grasp every 
moment. 

Elsie remembered at this moment Alf's • pleading look 
as she had expressed the wish that she could like Koland 
well enough to marry him, and somehow she almost trem- 
bled as she thought of the possible life to which he might 
drift for want of some strong helper to guide and control 
him through his affections and better nature. Many a no- 
ble woman has immolated herself on such an altar, in the 
hope of saving and redeeming. 

Perhaps it is right for a brave, good, useful swimmer to 
plunge into the raging water, with its hidden as well as 
obvious perils, to rescue some inferior fellow- creature who 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


275 


is about to perish. And if the rescue is effected, and both 
safely reach shore, the world applauds, and all say and feel 
— “ well done.” But if, as sometimes happens, the brave 
one saves the inferior being, and loses his own life in the 
valorous attempt — what is said and thought then? Self- 
sacrifice is the highest form of human endeavor, when the 
object of salvation is a noble one. Yet to give the noble 
for the ignoble — the useful for the useless — gold for brass 
— is that wise ? But, supposing the probabilities of salva- 
tion for the inferior are only one in a hundred, even if the 
superior is sacrificed, is such an attempt ever justifiable ? 
Ordinary prudence, common sense, as well as the best in- 
telligence must say, “ nay.” And yet this is being done in 
society every day. Noble lives — strong, virtuous, helpful 
lives — are being poured out like water in the vain hope of 
reforming and saving some wretched specimen of human- 
ity, whose miserable remnant of a misspent existence — a 
shrivelled, warped soul, seared and burned out of all true 
shape by the fires of lust and self-indulgence — even if saved, 
is surely not worth the cost. For we have to remember 
that in many of these attempts the superior nature is 
lowered, degraded, and impaired in this struggle between 
good and evil, the latter being too strong ; and so, what 
might have blessed the world, serves merely as fuel to feed 
the foul flames of the garbage heap. 

Elsie’s mind had been trained by a kind, wise friend — 
her father — who had impressed Upon her that self-sacrifice 
is only noble if the object is a noble one, and success prob- 
able ; otherwise it is both unwise and criminal. 

“ The man who, being unable to swim, plunges boldly 
into the water to save a companion, is a brave fool who, if 
he escapes drowning, ought to be punished. No one is 
justified in recklessly throwing away his life,” he had said 
to her on one occasion, and she remembered it now as she 
confronted this youth, whom she earnestly desired to save, 


276 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


and listened to his pleadings. These thoughts, the out- 
come of past reflections and conversations, flashed through 
her mind in a tithe of the time it takes to read them, and 
when her companion ceased — and we have given above a 
mere hint of the arguments he used, lover’s logic and 
lover’s sophistry — she had decided on her course. 

“Eoland, the man I marry must be strong enough men- 
tally and spiritually to command my respect. He who has 
not manhood enough to resist temptation and be his own 
saviour, but looks to someone else for salvation — especially 
to one who naturally should expect aid from him — never 
ought to dare to marry. I should feel contempt for such a 
one, and contempt and love cannot dwell together.” 

He cowered before her indignant words, and felt at 
that moment how immeasurably apart they were. 

“ But, am I then not worth saving ? ” he ventured. 

“ Yes — a thousand times yes, but you must save your- 
self ; no one else can do it. Others can only help. Any 
help that one so weak as I can give, I cheerfully offer. 
Let me be a friend — a sister, if you wdll — but no nearer re- 
lation is possible, and after a time you will see this as I 
see it and thank me. Now let us return. No one need be 
one bit the wiser for what has passed between us.” 

He attempted a feeble remonstrance, but felt impelled to 
acquiesce, and they walked homeward, she speaking quietly 
and naturally on common topics, and contented with the 
monosyllabic responses of her companion. They shortly 
met the rest of the St. Johns party and Mr. Hastings, and 
Elsie was satisfied, from the questioning looks of the elder 
lady and the curious side-glances which tjie girls cast on 
their brother, that the ordeal through which she had just 
passed, and which had tried her sorely, had been at least 
anticipated and connived at by the young man’s female re- 
latives. She felt somewhat indignant and hurt, and if op- 
portunity had offered, would fain have retired to the pri- 


THE EUSSIAN EEFtJGEE. 


277 


vacy of her own room, and indulged in the luxury and re- 
lief of a good cry. But she was compelled to exert herself, 
as if nothing had occurred to mar her enjoyment, conscious 
all the time that her lady friends knew pretty well, or sus- 
pected, what had taken place, and that she had wounded 
them through the son and brother. As for Boland, he ex- 
cused himself soon from the party, saying he had up to 
that moment forgotten an imperative engagement, which 
must be attended to ere returning to town. So the rest 
sauntered on, although for most of them the charm of the 
evening had somehow departed. 

“ Boland does not look quite himself, my dear Elsie ; can 
you suggest any cause for the poor boy’s evident depres- 
sion ? ’’ asked his mother, keenly observing the young lady. 

“It is very natural, mamma,” quickly remarked Alf, 
willing to save her friend the annoyance of trying to an- 
swer a possibly awkward question. “ Boland is much at- 
tached to this place, and feels our leaving very much.” 

The young lady’s mother looked as if she wished she 
would mind her own business and speak only when spoken 
to, but Elsie’s grateful look amply rewarded the independ- 
ent Alf, who, w’hen in the countiy associating with her 
friend of the Hermitage, seemed to borrow courage and 
self-reliance from the latter, however she might disguise 
and restrain such qualities when in the city. Indeed, Mrs. 
St. Johns had remarked to her elder daughter, only the 
day previous : “ We must go home, for Alf’s sake. Her 
very nature seems to change when with Elsie Hastings for 
any length of time. Elsie is the dearest girl in the world, 
in spite of her gaucheries and country ways ; but it would 
break my heart if either of my daughters had such outre 
manners. It would min us aU with our set.” 

In the meantime Boland was making his way to Melville 
to seek a sympathetic ear. He was soon in the apartment 
of his friend, who seemed surprised at seeing him. 


278 THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 

“Hello, St. Johns, what in thunder brings you here 
again ? You said, on bidding me good-by three hours ago, 
that I should not see you again for a week at least. Some- 
thing’s wrong, by the holy poker, for you look savage. Out 
with it, man ! ” Seeing that Eoland preserved a moody si- 
lence — “Has she given you the mitten, eh?” 

“ She is, as I told you, just infatuated with that damned 
Eussian,” said the other, savagely. 

“Ha, ha, a little jealousy ! Would like to make mince- 
meat of the aforesaid Muscovite ! Yes, yes, but don’t care 
to try his strong arm again.” 

His hearer winced as if a hot iron had touched him. 

“ Oh, well fix that fellow. Now tell me all about it. Did 
you propose, as I told you ? ” 

In a short time Esmond was in possession of the whole 
story, and a long conversation ensued, at the conclusion of 
which the visitor left the hotel looking much more cheerful 
than when he had entered. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


THE RED CIRCLE. 

Feiday arrived, and the Hermitage being free of guests 
once more, Mr. Hastings and Elsie were early at the ren- 
dezvous, ready to be escorted to the cave. They were met 
by Adolph, who said that Hiram would join them before 
they reached the place where they had to be blindfolded. 
All were in capital spirits, for the morning was delightful, 
and the consciousness that they were free to leave home 
without violating any laws of hospitality gave an additional 
zest to the excursion. Also to Elsie, the thought of becom- 
ing a member of an order which had in one way and another 
occupied a good deal of her thoughts during the past few 
months, threw a film of romance over the entire proceed- 
ings, that was peculiarly fascinating to youth and health. 
On the way, their companion showed that he had made 
excellent use of the books sent him, by his clear, practical 
observations on the flora and geological formation of the 
neighborhood. It was surprising to Mr. Hastings, who had 
considerable acquaintance with these sciences himself, to 
note how clear and accurate his observations were. “ Yet,” 
as the Russian explained, “ I had a large practical knowl- 
edge of these matters before, but lacked the scientific 
terms and classification and exact definitions which the 
books supplied:'’ 

“ Still, how could you get on at aU, without names for the 
flowers and plants ? ” asked Elsie. “ I never could, I am 
sure.”^ 


280 


THE RUSSIAN REFUC4EE. 


“ Certainly, ]\Iiss Hastings, I had names for them. Some 
I used to distinguish by the common local terms ; and, 
where I could not find out the names, I gave them names 
myself, and also classified them after a plan of my own. I 
must show you my botany, some day ; it is about two hun- 
dred pages of writing.” 

“ And have you done the same thing in geology ? ” 
asked Mr. Hastings, who had listened with amazement at 
the marvellous perseverance shown by this natural student. 

“Yes, but here I had to invent almost everything ; for 
few around here, that I have associated with, know anything 
of geology. But then the men who wrote the books had to 
do the same thing at first, did they not ? ” 

“ And you are the man tj^iey say is not educated,” said 
Elsie, impulsively. 

Adolph’s deepened color and her father’s surprised 
“ Elsie ! ” warned her that the remark was an unfortunate 
one. 

“ I ask pardon,” she said, blushing in her turn. “ I did 
not mean to speak so bluntly ; but I heard the remark, and 
the injustice of it came home to me very strongly just then. 
Please forget what I said, Mr. Adolph. Father often tells 
me about my speaking and doing so much on impulse.” 

“ There is nothing to apologize for, or try to forget, either, 
my dear friends, if I may call you so,” returned the gentle- 
man, who showed no annoyance in his manner, but rather 
a humorous appreciation of the remark. “ Whoever said 
so was quite right. I am an uneducated man. I only know 
how to read and write ; but, as they are keys to most knowl- 
edge of the schools, at least, I may hope to know a little 
more, some day.” 

“I question if your education to-day, modestly as you 
speak of it, isn’t more valuable than that of half the stu- 
dents who graduate yearly from our colleges and univer- 
sities,” answered Mr. Hastings, warmly. “Much of college 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


S81 


knowledge is a mere counterfeit resemblance, so far as life 
is concerned — cramming dead languages, and neglecting 
living ones, including their own ; giving unstinted toil to 
solve worn-out problems and investigate defunct issues, 
while the grand questions and live issues of our own day 
are demanding attention at every step. Ordinary college 
training simply inflates the average student, and sends him, 
balloon-like, floating down his generation, pompous and 
conceited, and of little value to the world, unless a friendly 
pin causes a collapse, and so shows him the true nature 
and value of his freight.” 

Hiram soon joined the party, looking as good-natured 
and grotesque as usual ; and as Elsie returned his respectful 
and affectionate greeting, looking up to the extraordinary 
figure, the appropriateness of the nickname “ Giraffe ” came 
home to her sense of humor as it had never done before. 
She could not resist glancing at her companion, who met 
her eye with a quiet smile, which showed he interpreted 
her thoughts. 

“ Hiram, my friend,” said the Kussian, ‘‘I know you are 
glad with me that this is the last time that we shall have to 
ask our honored guests here to submit to the indignity of 
the bandage.” 

“ Darn my butes, ef I doan’t feel jest so.” 

“Why, you mustn’t think we mind such a trifle,” said 
Ml’. Hastings. “Of course, one prefers the use of all the 
senses ; but we don’t mind letting you and Hiram act as 
eyes for us, for a while. Do we, Elsie ? ” 

She laughed merrily. 

“ No, indeed ; it’s a good thing to give the eyes all the 
rest possible, and four eyes ought to be able to do the seeing 
for four people.” So saying, she first adjusted the handker- 
chief on her father’s head, and then submitted her own to 
the same operation at the hands of Adolph. After walking 
a few moments, Hiram, who was a little in advance, leading 


282 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Mr. Hastings, suddenly stopped, and motioned to the other 
couple to do the same. 

“ Durn it, friend Adolph, some pesky varmint’s a foller- 
ing on us.” 

All listened carefully ; but no sounds could be heard, 
except such as always fill the country air, making the still- 
ness audible. 

“ If it was anyone else but Hiram, I should say it was a 
mistake ; but he never fails, ” said Ad6lph. 

“ The Giraffe ” in the meantime had laid himself prone 
on his face, with one ear pressed close to the ground. 
Presently, he arose. 

“ The pesky critter’s a follering on us, sure. Only one 
varmint, an’ he’s a city -rat.” 

Adolph listened too, with his ear close to the ground, 
and presently was able to catch the sound of a crafty foot- 
step, which was much nearer and more distinct in its fall 
than when the trapper detected it. 

“Perhaps it would be wiser to defer our visit to-day, and 
come some other time,” remarked the proprietor of the 
Hermitage. 

“Not at all,” replied Adolph. “ Hiram will settle with this 
rash intruder, and join us at the cave. Allow me to take 
your arm, Mr. Hastings.” 

So saying, holding an arm of each of the visitors, he led 
the way forward, while the “Giraffe” disappeared from 
sight almost like magic. He seemed to sink his tall form 
right into the ground. The region was covered with trees 
and bushes, so it was not a difficult thing for the spy, if 
such he was, to keep out of sight, and equally easy for those 
he was tracking to avoid his eye. A couple of moments 
perhaps after the two had left Hiram, a man emerged cau- 
tiously from the bushes and moved noiselessly across the 
small open space, where they had stood deciding on their 
course after Hiram’s announcement, in the direction they 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


283 


had taken. A second later and the stranger felt himself 
grasped firmly by the hair by some force from above and 
lifted bodily into the air. He struggled violently, half wild 
with terror, but the giant hand relaxed not a bit. 

“ Durn my butes, but yer a purty sight, anyhow, so ye 
are,” reached his ears and satisfied him that it was humanity 
in some form he had to deal with. 

“Let me go, you scoundrel. If you want to rob me take 
what I’ve got, but let me go.” 

“Let ye go— ha ! mighty skeered ye be naow, ain’t yer ? 
Wall, ’spose yer let go — guess yer’d better stir yer hoofs 
kinder smartish like ter hum. Whoop ! but I kinder feel 
like raising yer ha’r for yer. Durn yer, what yer doing 
’bout these diggin’s poking yer nose inter what don’t con- 
sarn yer nohow ? Now get — 'whoop ! ” and suddenly setting 
the astonished and trembling spy hard down he gave him 
a by no means gentle application of his foot to helj) him in 
the way he should go, at the same time emitting a cry that 
would have done justice to the lungs of any brave that ever 
traversed the war-path. 

Esmond, for it was he, partly from the impetus given him 
and partly to put himself safely beyond the reach of the 
formidable hand, dashed wildly forward a few steps, and 
then trembling with anger and chagrin at the outrage to 
which he had been subjected, turned and faced his enemy. 
The tall, gaunt form stood in grotesque dignity with his 
right hand pointing, like a huge sign-post at a crossing, in 
the direction in which he had propelled the young man. 
So gigantic was the size, and so altogether strange and for- 
midable the appearance of the trapper, who purposely gave 
himself every inch of height he possessed, that the first im- 
pulse of Esmond, who was courageous enough commonly, 
was to beat a hasty retreat. But mastering this inclination, 
and yielding to a burning desire to revenge himself, he 
suddenly drew a revolver — a weapon he never was "svith- 


284 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


out — and levelled it at the hunter. But the movement 
had been seen and anticipated by his sharp-visioned 
enemy. 

“ Stranger, put up yer shooter. I’ve got the drop onter 
yer,” and the surprised Australian found he was looking 
into the barrel of a “ shooter ” at least three times as large 
as his own. There was no alternative, and so the smaller 
weapon was promptly lowered with a bitter imprecation by 
its owner. 

“ You hideous vagabond, I’ll meet you again and teach 
you what it is to interfere with me.” 

Just then a wild pigeon flew above the two, a quick move- 
ment on the part of the trapper, a report, and the bird fell 
dead at Esmond’s feet. 

“ Burn me butes, I kinder ’spected to tooken the critter’s 
head off. Day-day, stranger — better trot, I’m getting sort 
o’ riled.” 

After such an exhibition of marksmanship Esmond felt 
less inclined to tany any longer, and so after shaking his fist 
at him, with an oath he left the hunter alone. The latter 
burst into a loud, harsh, mocking laugh as the other dis- 
appeared. 

“ l)urn my butes, the critter thought’d scare suthin’ with 
his pop-gun, ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

The three awaiting the arrival of the trapper near the 
mouth of the cave heard the shot and felt some anxiety as 
to its cause and result. 

“ That’s Hiram’s pistol. I know the sound of it. Just 
as likely as not he has fired to scare the other or add em- 
phasis to his remarks.” Elsie was trembling a little for her 
old friend, but these words reassured her somewhat. How- 
ever, all were relieved when the trapper presently came up 
laughing to himself at his adventure. They insisted on 
hearing the story, which was narrated in such a graphic 
way as to afford great amusement. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


285 


“ But who was it ? ” asked Mr, Hastings. 

“ Some pesky critter from the taown,” returned the ‘‘ Gi- 
raffe,” evasively, giving at least two of the party the impres- 
sion that he knew more than he chose to say regarding the 
identity of the individual who had followed them. The 
bandages, which had been removed by Adolph when they 
halted in a clump of bushes near the entrance of the cave to 
await the trapper’s arrival, were npw reapplied and the party 
passed underground once more. On reaching the familiar 
apartment they were greeted by the voice of the Exile, 
who welcomed them warmly, and requested that they re- 
main with the eyes darkened until the ceremony of initia- 
tion had so far progressed as to admit of their being re- 
stored to sight. 

“We do this, dear friends, in order to avoid the neces- 
sity of blinding thee again, and we will proceed at once to 
initiate thee unless otherwise desired.” 

“We are both ready, and I think would rather have it 
over at once,” replied Mr. Hastings. 

So a few questions were asked and answered, and then 
the two neophytes were conducted round the room, receiv- 
ing certain instructions and points of information bearing 
upon the aims and ends of the order they were entering. 
This occupied about fifteen minutes, and at the conclusion 
of this paid; of the ceremonies the bandages were quickly 
removed from their eyes, and Elsie and her father found 
themselves in the midst of a circle composed of six persons 
all clothed in scarlet from head to foot. These all clasped 
hands. A seventh figure of more imposing mien and 
somewhat different dress, but masked like the rest, stood 
in the circle facing them, and holding in his right hand a 
large beautifully formed and ornamented dagger, which 
was pointing upward over th^ir heads. This person then 
gave a solemn invocation or prayer, asking that the great 
unseen spirit of justice, mercy, and truth might be with 


286 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


the two friends who had entered the Brotherhood of the 
‘•'Bed Circle.” 

“ The dagger is not an emblem of blood, but of justice, 
of self-preservation, the symbol of the primal law. Every 
creature has a right to defend itself and those dear to it, 
against oppression and wrong. Life implies and carries 
with it certain rights which are inalienable, so long as not 
forfeited by conduct which trenches upon the rights of 
others.” 

The nature and claims of the order were dwelt upon, and 
the grips, passwords, etc., given. As honorary members, or 
associate members, no obligation was imposed, except that 
of secrecy. Absolute obedience was demanded of full 
members, while optional obedience was only expected 
from the others. 

‘‘ To help a brother in distress is imperative wdth us, as 
with all secret organizations, but with you this will be en- 
tirely a matter of conscience and judgment.” 

The speaker then added, after a pause during which the 
figures forming the circle slowly chanted what seemed to be a 
hymn in the Russian language ! “ The order you have joined 
is world- wide, for it is affiliated with societies or organiza- 
tions having similar aims in every civilized country in the 
world, so that you are now members of a vast and powerful 
brotherhood — strong not merely in numbers and resources, 
but also in the proud consciousness of being banded to- 
gether for a noble object — the freedom and elevation of the 
race.” Much more was said having a similar purport, and 
the whole tone was lofty and dignified, and the entire cere- 
mony impressive and inspiring. In the final scene the 
eyes of the new members were again covered, this time 
with a fillet of soft leather, having some symbolic characters 
inscribed upon it. They were then led to a seat, and in a 
few moments, the fillet being removed, found themselves 
surrounded by the familiar faces of the cave friends includ- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


287 


ing Nadia and Sophia, and also two strangers from a dis- 
tance, who bore the names of Stefanovic and Perovskaia, 
and were officers of a circle in a distant part of the coun- 
try. They had arrived a few days before on business con- 
nected with the order, and been prevailed upon to stay and 
assist at the initiation of the new members. Mr. Hastings 
found the former gentleman a well-educated, thoughtful 
man, and held a very interesting and instructive conversa- 
tion with him. He referred to the Patriarch as ‘‘ our Chief ” 
and said he was at the head of the order in America. 

“ He is, indeed, a very superior man, and an original 
thinker.” 

“I fully agree with you,” said Mr. Hastings, “ and should 
say that his son has inherited a good deal of his father’s 
genius.” 

]VIr. Adolph ! Yes,” smilingly assented Mr. Stefanovic, 
“ but perhaps you are not aware that there is no actual 
blood relationship between these two ? ” 

“ Is that possible ! Why, I have supposed from the first 
that they were father and son.” 

“And so they are in a larger sense than any father and 
son I ever met, but you must ask the Chief to explain this 
matter. It is singular he has not spoken of it before.” 

“ This is one of the best days of my life,” said Adolph, 
immediately after the initiation, as he offered his hand to 
Elsie, in congratulation. “ To find you one of us gives us 
courage. You must not be ashamed of your co-members, 
for some of the noblest and bravest of earth’s children are 
united with us. I could mention names that would as- 
tonish you — world-wide names, whose owners are devoted 
workers with us.” 

“ Well, in spite of your daggers and bloody circles, I do 
not think it was so very dreadful after all,” returned the 
young lady. “Now I think father will quite understand 
about the house and circling fence.” 


288 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Chief,” said Stefanovic at this moment, “our new mem* 
her here, Mr. Hastings, is rather sui'prised when I tell him 
that you and our esteemed friend Adolph are not related 
by blood, and yet consider yourselves father and son.” 

The Patriarch did not seem surprised or annoyed, as the 
new member referred to feared he might be, at this abrupt 
statement, but smiling pleasantly, answered promptly: 
“ Our friend Stefanovic speaks truly, Mr, Hastings. There 
is no natural blood relationship between Adolph and my- 
self, but yet he is really and truly my child, if evidence is 
worth anything.” 

“Father has a theory of human development, which 
after explaining to you, will remove in some degree what 
seems so strange and contradictory in his statements,” ex- 
plained Adolph, answering the look of amused perplexity 
in Elsie’s eyes, saying which he quietly withdrew from the 
apartment. 

The Patriarch continued : “I was perhaps wrong not to 
have explained to you, my friends — doubly so now, if that 
were possible, since you have become members of our 
brotherhood — the actual relationship existing between my 
beloved Adolph and myself, but I thought best to defer it 
until after your initiation. However, I now gladly avail 
myself of the opportunity afforded to speak of this matter, 
and others akin to it. I am afraid you will think me a sad 
dreamer and visionary, Mr. Hastings, but these thoughts 
which I am to present to you are not merely the vagaries 
of senility, but have had mental lodgment with me for over 
half a century. Many, many years ago, before winter with 
its snow visited this head of mine, I was the happy father 
of a gentle, loving boy. Some fourteen years ere this, my 
beloved wife, who had so bravely faced the battle of life 
with me, and nerved me to my duty — my faithful Sophia, 
had died, leaving a baby-boy, a few days old.” 

The old man paused a moment or two, and closed his 


THE KUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


289 


eyes, as if oppressed by tbe painful images of that past he 
was engaged in resurrecting. 

“As you may suppose, my life was largely wrapped 
up in the child ; and I resolved, God helping me, to bring 
him up worthy of her who was gone. The little Adolph 
grew to be the joy of my widowed heart. Docile, affec- 
tionate, apt and ingenious, he was all I could wish. Un- 
fortunately, being blind to his physical frailty, I fostered 
his eager desire for knowledge, leaving the body to care for 
itseK. His love for the natural sciences was remarkable, 
and his knowledge of botany and geology phenomenal for 
one of his tender age. But, alas I as the spirit grew, the 
body faded : lung trouble showed itself ; a few months of 
wasting sickness, and my boy, my dearly beloved child, 
then passed out of my life, leaving me as one from whom 
the light had departed — the future looming before me as 
one continuous night, unbroken by a single star. One 
thing saved me from absolute despair — the belief, which I 
had long entertained, that a large number of those who 
leave this life of earth return to it again, either immediately 
or within a brief period. This opinion, or rather fixed be- 
lief, I had arrived at by slow process of thought and numer- 
ous observations in the world of human life. I had suc- 
ceeded in tracing out, to my complete satisfaction, several 
cases of such re-incarnation. So I roused myself from my 
lethargy of sorrow, feeling assured that I should again see 
my child in earthly form, that again he would form part of 
the human family. Yet the belief that I should once more 
clasp the gone one to my bereaved heart was, you may say, 
resting upon exceedingly slender foundations, even sup- 
posing that my re-incarnation theory was susceptible of 
proof. For how could I have knowledge of all the children 
born into the world within a year or so of my child’s death ? 
I am aware that the entire thing looks wild and fanciful in 
the extreme, and that any man’s sanity might justly be 
19 


290 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


doubted, who should expect such a thing, or even claim it 
was possible. But belief is a curious thing — not governed 
by fixed laws, or necessarily related to mathematics. 

“As you may conceive, having such a hope I was ever on the 
alert, and finally Providence, or my good angel — or instinct, 
or if you will, chance — at length justified my faith and re- 
warded my efforts. Some years after my loss, I foimd my 
child. It was a mutual recognition. I knew him at once, 
and upon uttering his old name — the name of my boy — 
he looked up in a puzzled way, and at once responded and 
came to me. Some other time I will tell you, if you wish, 
how I was directed to the then home of my child ; now I 
will simply tell the main stoiy. He was the youngest of 
a large family. The parents were hard-working, strong, 
healthy people, honest and intelligent, belonging to the la- 
boring class, and the little fellow was having every advan- 
tage for physical development. After satisfying myself, by 
varied and repeated trials, that it was the soul of my Adolph 
that lived in the rugged form of this humbly-born child, 
I resolved to use aU legitimate means to induce these 
worthy people to resign him to me. It was a delicate, and, 
to most, would have seemed a hopeless task ; but, to my sur- 
prise and relief, they did not make the opposition which I 
had anticipated. They had a large family, as said, and 
their means were limited ; and this child differed so much 
from the others, in his tastes and desires, that already the 
parents began to entertain fears of his futui’e. ‘We can- 
not afford a gentleman in the family,’ said the good woman ; 
‘and although Eoger is willing and industrious, yet the 
little fellow seems to be always longing and looking for 
something which we haven’t got. His language, too, is dif- 
ferent from that of his brothers. He uses better words, and 
says he means to be a scholar when he grows up ; and so, 
dear as he is to us, if a good home offers for him, where 
he can have better schooling than we can give him, why. 


THE RUSSIAlSr REFUGEE. 


291 


his father and I are willing to let him go.’ This was ex- 
pressed in the homely, simple style of her class. I made 
the worthy people a substantial present, and brought 
Adolph home. The name Koger was not mentioned after- 
ward in speaking of or to him, and he made no allu- 
sion to it himself, only on one occasion, when — about a 
year after I brought him home — a boy, in answer to my 
question, answered that his name was Koger ; and Adolph, 
who was standing near, immediately called out, ‘ What a 
funny name ! They used to call me that once,’ at the same 
time laughing heartily. But I must not weary you further 
at this time — only to say, in conclusion, that the boyhood 
and manhood of Adolph have continuously proved to me 
that I made no mistake, but that he is my child.” 

“A most extraordinary narrative,” said IVIr. Hastings, 
smiling, and one which I fear would gain but little cre- 
dence with most people. However, the metempsychosis or 
transmigration theory has always been a subject of interest 
to me ; and I shall be glad to converse with you again on 
this subject. It certainly opens up a field for curious in- 
vestigation ; and life has taught me one lesson, at least, and 
that is, to be very cautious in saying what is, and is not 
possible, in connection with this curious existence of 
ours.” 

Perovskaia here remarked : “ Such views of life and its 
relations are not so foreign to Russian ears as perhaps to 
others ; for we think that man is justified in speculating on 
the unseen and the unknown — not. blindly accepting the 
dogmas of the past concerning it. Although I do not en- 
tirely agree with our Chief in many things, as every man 
should have a mind of his own, yet I think that this belief 
of his of returning to earth explains many things that 
otherwise are inexplicable.” 

Stefanovic then remarked that he had seen two cases very 
similar to that of the Chief and Adolph. 


292 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Father, will not these friends come and see us, some 
time, at our residence ? ” asked Elsie. 

‘‘ My house is open to them, and we shall be glad to see 
them,” returned her father. 

“ I must speak for all,” said Adolph, who had just come 
in. “Circumstances which you can understand, dear 
friends, will cause us to decline, at least for the ;^resent. 
Ivan Sobieski is, you remember, a refugee from penal servi- 
tude in Siberia, and in some danger — at least for a time. 
For his sake, we do not well to draw public attention on 
us, just now.” 

“ Possibly you are right, yet I do not think your friend 
runs the slightest risk ; but for a short time, perhaps, he had 
best remain quiet and retired. Some time in the future, 
when it seems more expedient, then we shall see you at 
the Hermitage.” 

“ Sophia, I do wish you could come ; I have so many 
things I should like to show you,” said Elsie, fondly strok- 
ing the hair of the little Kussian maiden. 

“ Can’t I go, mother ? ” she asked, eagerly, in her native 
tongue, and pouted just a little when the mother shook 
her head. “ I would like to wait on you and do things for 
you. May I, some time, please ? ” the little one pleaded, lift- 
ing her bright, expressive face to her friend. 

“Perhaps you can, some day soon ; we will see,” said the 
young lady, in kissing her good-by. 

It was pretty late in the afternoon when the father and 
daughter reached home, after an experience which was re- 
freshing, if for nothing else than its being novel. New, at 
least, entirely to Elsie ; to her father, new in the sense that 
the fresh page of the magazine is new, presenting thoughts 
which have come to us before, perhaps, but never in this 
particular form. The initiation was impressive ; but to a 
Mason, as Mr. Hastings was, it was not startling or specially 
strange, for there is almost of necessity a similarity about 


THE KUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


293 


all these things ; but the speculative theories of the Ancient 
concerning his child, coincided with some previous ideas 
which had obtained lodgement in his brain, and set him 
thinking. “ At any rate,” Mr. Hastings said to himself, 
“ it is pleasant to meet with one who dares to think outside 
the old channels, and is willing to express those thoughts 
without reference to consequences.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


ENGAGED. 

Next day, the Hermitage was again filled with visitors, so 
that Elsie’s promised leisure vanished almost ere begun. 
Dr. Seaman and the Thompsons arrived unexpectedly from 
the West — the Englishman having received news from his 
partner in London which decided him to curtail his trip 
somewhat. 

“ But he will remain until after the wedding — only War- 
ren must hasten up matters,” said he, in announcing that 
the physician had captured the gentle Ellen’s affections, and 
she had agreed to remain behind, and share the lot of a. 
country doctor. 

Yes, Warren had decided, amid the soft, suggestive 
influences of the evenings spent within hearing of the 
Great Cataract, that the English maiden was undoubtedly 
his P. C. ; and, all opposers to the conclusion being calmly 
ignored, or else boldly set at defiance, he had on the last 
evening spent there, dared to tell her so, and asked her to 
renounce her country for his sake. The Grand Horseshoe 
was beautifully wreathed in a silvery mist, woven of Luna’s 
bright beams in the warj) of Niagara’s spray, making a 
bridal-veil of exquisite pattern and beauty. The resem- 
blance was dangerously suggestive ; and Warren, the cun- 
ning fellow, took the cue from it, and pressed his suit. 
He did not realize how much it involved to the fair girl 
beside him — to give up native land, and parents, and 
brother and sister, for one that she had known only for a 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


295 


few brief months. Ellen’s lips quivered cand her cheeks 
paled at the sacrifice ; but, it was the old story, and the 
lover conquered. The couple returned to the hotel— en- 
gaged — conditional, however,, on parental consent. Mr. 
Thompson was a little astonished and slightly hurt at first, 
that he had not been consulted in advance by the gentleman, 
according to the English custom, but soon regained his 
customary good-humor, and said he supposed that when 
in Yankeeland one must submit to what the Yankees 
do. 

“However, we must consult Mrs. Thompson about it; 
and, if she consents to lose her daughter in such fashion, 
why, I have nothing to say — only that I do wish, Warren, 
you were an Englishman, and going to practise your pro- 
fession in England. You have a fine — yes, a magnificent 
country here ; but it is isn’t England, by any means.” 

Time was, when Seaman' would have taken up the cud- 
gels for the “ land of the free,” and proved, so far as in 
him lay, that England shouldn’t be mentioned in the same 
breath with America ; but he was not in a fighting mood 
on this particular evening, and felt that England was no 
doubt the best country on earth, since Ellen was its off- 
spring, and of course America came next. And now, three 
weeks after this momentous occasion, they were back at the 
Hermitage, and Warren was making preparations to secure 
a suitable office. The marriage was to take place as soon 
as word was received from Mrs. Thompson ; for no doubt 
was entertained as to her consent being given, Warren 
being a prime favorite with her. The meeting between 
Elsie and the bride-elect was peculiarly interesting, such a 
thorough sympathy existed between them. Ellen blushed, 
and then burst into tears, as the young hostess congratu- 
lated her warmly. 

“My dear Ellen,” said she, fully entering into her feel- 
ings, then putting her arm around her waist, she led her into 


29C 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


a quiet corner, where they could be alone, and have a good 
talk all to themselves. This was just what the tender- 
hearted, affectionate stranger needed, and she opened her 
heart to her companion. Ellen was at this time pining for 
her mother, to whom she could have gone and unbosomed 
herself ; and Elsie, wisely discerning this necessity, gently 
and tenderly invited her confidence, and so gave her an op- 
portunity to relieve her overburdened heart. The good cry 
and the free conversation did the young girl a world of 
benefit, and established a friendship between her and the 
American friend which was a source of great comfort to 
both. 

One might have supposed that Louisa would have been 
the natural confidant of her sister ; but, although very fond 
of each other in a true sisterly way, yet they were by 
nature so essentially unlike that a very full exchange of 
confidence was impossible. They could not quite under- 
stand each other. On the other hand though Elsie and 
Louisa were much alike in their general characteristics, both 
being self-reliant and courageous, yet the latter lacked, to 
some extent, a thorough sympathy for weaknesses which 
were foreign to her own nature, while the former could, in a 
marked degree, put herself in the place of the weak one, and 
realize how she might, under certain conditions, feel and 
act similarly. Both had strength, both were kind-hearted ; 
but Elsie had a warm sympathy and pity for emotions 
and feelings which she did not herself share, while Miss 
Thompson found it at times difficult to avoid a feeling akin 
to contempt for what appeared to lier stronger nature a 
foolish yielding to weak sentiment or superficial emo- 
tion. 

“ Elsie, Elsie ! how can I give up my mother ? I some- 
times feel as if I had done wrong, and acted undutifully in 
yielding to Warren ; and yet I love him more than I can 
tell,” she added, her mood somewhat changing. “ But oh, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


297 


sometimes it does seem dreadful to let father and Louisa 
go home, and leave me here alone ! ” 

“ Dear girl, you wont be alone ; and Warren is one of the 
best fellows in the world. I am so glad you are to be my 
new cousin — no one else could I like so much.” And then, 
in answer to Elsie’s questioning, she told her all about it, 
and they had a mutually pleasant talk, and at the end of the 
half hour Ellen felt quite comforted. 

“ Please don’t tell Louisa that I have been talking this 
way to you, Elsie. She would not understand, and say I was 
weak and foolish.” 

“Just as you desire, my dear cousin-to-be. But who is 
that calhng me ? ” 

“ Why, Harry, is that you ? Miss Ellen Thompson, of 
England, Harry ; Ellen, this is my cousin, Mr. Esmond.” 

The young man glanced admiringly, and yet with a quick, 
half-suspicious look at the young lady ; and then, in his 
usual easy, self-possessed way, addressed a few pleasant 
words to her. 

“But, Elsie, if Miss Thompson will excuse us, I want to 
consult you, for a moment. You know cousins and brothers 
are always wanting something. Miss Thompson.” 

Ellen laughed, and told them not to mind her ; for she 
was “ going to write a letter,” leaving the room as she 
spoke. 

“ Now, Elsie, I want to ask you who, in the name of 
all that is wonderful, is that talking with uncle on the 
lawn.” 

“ Why, Harry, I believe you look actually scared. That 
is cousin Warren — Dr. Warren Seaman. You have heard 
me speak of him. It is time two cousins became known 
to each other. Come, and I’ll introduce you.” 

“ The same one that was in England lately, is it, Elsie ? ” 
said the other, who was scrutinizing Warren like a de- 
tective. 


298 


THE EUSSIAH BEFUGEE. 


“ Yes, the same ; and he is engaged to that young lady, 
who was here just now. Come along.” 

“ No, thanks, Elsie — some other time ; I’m uncommonly 
busy to-day. By-the-by, can’t we have a ride, this evening ? 
I don’t see much of you lately.” 

“Not this evening. I’m afraid, Harry ; but some of these 
evenings, we’ll have a chance.” 

“Deuced unlucky ! ” muttered the young man to himself, 
as he took a circuit to avoid attracting the attention of the 
party on the lawn. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


A THUNDER CLOUD. 

About three days after the return of Seaman and his 
friends to the mansion, Mr. Hastings received a letter, hav- 
ing on the envelope, “Ferns & Laycock, attorneys-at-law,” 
etc. ; and, as one will occasionally, gazed on the outside, 
trying to imagine when or where he had had any deal- 
ings with these gentlemen. Of course, it occun*ed to him 
a moment later that the best way to solve the problem 
was to open the letter, and find out. The same firm-name 
was on the upper left-hand corner of the letter, and on the 
other to the right the full names : 

Anthony Ferns, 
James H. Laycock. 

Denbridge Wells, July 6, 18 — . 

Roger Hastings, Esq. 

Dear Sir : Permit us to inform you, in the interests of our client, 
Arthur Liscomb, Esq. , that the said Arthur Liscomb, having a prior 
claim on the property known as the Hermitage, at present occupied 
by you, has placed the matter in our hands with instructions to pro- 
ceed at once to obtain legal possession. Proofs of said claim can be 
seen by you or your counsel at any time by calling at our office. 

We are, sir, respectfully, 

Ferns & Laycock. 

An amused smile crept over the face of the reader, as he 
finished the above. 

“ Cool, I should say ! What do you think of that, War- 
ren ? ” handing the epistle to his nephew, who just then 
entered the library. 


300 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


“ Why, Uncle Koger, what does this mean ? ” cried the 
doctor in alarm. 

“It simply means a piece of rascality to deprive me of my 
property,” returned the other, grimly ; “ but I’m too old to 
be easily bluffed.” 

“ But who is this claimant, Liscomb, and is this a reputa- 
ble firm of lawyers ? ” 

“Liscomb I know nothing about ; and yet there used to 
be a Liscomb around here — a sort of real estate agent, who 
had a son, a pretty wild feUow, called Arthur, if I remember 
correctly. He went off abroad somewhere, and the father 
died shortly afterwai’d. Surely it cannot be the son. He 
was rascal enough for anything, according to all I’ve heard 
of him.” 

“ But these lawyers, uncle, are they reputable men ? ” 

“ I have never dii’ectly had any dealings with them, but I 
have heard St. Johns, who knew them, characterize them as 
a couple of scoundrels — shrewd and unscrupulous pettifog- 
gers, who are always ready to take up cases upon specula- 
tion.” 

“ What will you do about it ? It seems to me not worthy 
any serious attention.” 

“ Oh, it has something behind it, you may be sure, and 
I must consult St. Johns. I will just enclose him the let- 
ter, and act on his suggestions.” 

Three days later an answer came from his friend, telling 
him that he had demanded the grounds of claim from 
Ferns & Laycock, and he enclosed an abstract of their 
reply. The claimant was the son of Thomas Liscomb, the 
real estate agent, who had purchased the property from 
Nicholas Kuprianoff, who had originally laid out the estate 
and built the house. The real estate agent had died sud- 
denly, shortly after buying the property, and before he had 
time to take possession, while his son and onlj^ child had 
left him for parts unknown some few months before. The 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


301 


latter, now an old man of seventy or thereabouts, had re- 
turned after all these years to claim the property as his 
father’s heir. Mr. St. Johns said the deed was dated back 
fifty-three years, while Mr. Whiteley’s deed, from whom 
Mr. Hastings had purchased, was at least a year later. ‘‘Is 
it a forger}^ ? ” you naturally inquire. It would seem not, 
for they concede the possible genuineness of both deeds, 
but claim that the Russian fraudulently deeded the prop- 
erty the second time, after the sudden death of the first 
purchaser, hoping to escape detection, as the first trans- 
action had not been made public. Nothing had been 
heard of the younger Liscomb until lately, when about a 
year since he wrote to request that any papers, etc., left by 
his father should be forwarded to him in New South 
Wales. Finding this deed among his effects, as soon as 
possible he wound up his affairs, and is now here to obtain 
possession of the fine property, out of which he claims he has 
been kept all these years. 

“ Don’t lose any sleep over this affair, for I hardly think 
the Hermitage is in any danger of changing proprietors 
soon ; but yet I am afraid we must fight these fellows, for 
they are as shrewd and unscrupulous as the old devil him- 
self,” said the writer, in conclusion. 

Elsie was indeed astonished and indignant to hear of the 
attempt to deprive them of their beloved home, the place 
of her birth. 

“It is an infamous slander,” she urged, “ against that 
old Russian who first owned and made the estate what it 
is, although of course it has been much improved since his 
time. I always heard he was the very soul of honor, and 
now to defame him in his grave ! It is a conspiracy, father, 
and as Mr. St. Johns says, ‘we must fight to the bitter 
end.’” 

Her father smiled at her enthusiasm and assured her 
everything should be done to protect their home, 


302 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Father,” said Elsie, presently, as if a sudden thought 
had come to her, “ wouldn’t it be a good idea to consult 
the ‘ Patriarch ’ about this. He probably knew the origi- 
nal proprietor, being a fellow-countryman, and may be able 
to suggest something ? ” 

“ A good plan, Elsie, and in the meantime I will look up 
my deed and ascertain the exact date.” 

At dinner that day Mr. Hastings seemed absent-minded 
and more reserved than usual, which Seaman rallied him 
on, claiming that he lived too retired a life, and should take 
Elsie off for the trip that the visitors had just returned from. 

“ Just you go, uncle, and we will take charge of every- 
thing and keep matters in fine trim until you return.” 

‘‘Indeed, I shall vote in the negative,” observed Mr. 
Thompson, quickly ; “ for the short time of our stay in this 
fine country, I want to see as much of our host and his fair 
daughter as possible.” 

“Thank you,” replied the proprietor of the mansion, 
“ but if I was to disappear for a month at this particular 
crisis I am afraid I should find other occupants at the Her- 
mitage when we returned.” 

“ What do you mean, father ? What have you heard fur- 
ther about that matter ? Nothing since morning, surely ? ” 
said Elsie, in alarm, for she knew by her father’s manner 
that something was wrong, more than she knew. 

“I do not like to mention unpleasant facts at dinner, my 
dear, but as you have asked the question, I will say that I 
am much vexed at not being able to find my deed of the 
estate. It is not where I am satisfied I left it.” 

“ Oh, father, I fear it was stolen during the robbery, 
then.” 

“ But what could robbers want with a deed ? ” remarked 
Mr. Thompson, incredulously ; “they could not use it in 
any way. Besides, I suppose these things are all registered 
in a public office, as they are with us ? ” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


303 


“That is very true/’ said the host, gloomily, “but the 
books of registration for the county were all destroyed in 
the fire which destroyed the Court-house this spring.” 

“But then, uncle, if there is nothing else, the great fact 
of undisputed possession for over a quarter of a century 
would be quite sufficient before any jury in the world,” 
confidently returned Seaman. 

“ Not in the face of a prior deed properly attested, I am 
afraid. However, we must not borrow trouble, and indeed 
I feel guilty intruding this matter upon you at all ; let us 
dismiss it. There will be some way out of the difficulty.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


A BIT OF BLUE SKY. 

The next day a very tender, carefully worded epistle ar- 
rived from Roland, asking Elsie to forgive any unkind 
words he had impulsively uttered, and hinting a hope that 
she would some day listen to his suit more favorably. 
“ You are my ideal woman, dear Miss Hastings, and I can- 
not give you up. Just think of the long friendship be- 
tween our families, and do not be deluded by a mere whim 
or fancy for one who is your inferior in rank and education.” 

The' young lady realized, more keenly than the writer 
would have liked, how hard it had been for him to write in 
this temperate style of the foreigner, for one or two words, 
no doubt very different in sentiment, had been carefully 
scratched out and others written over them. 

“Poor Roland, how I wish he was safely married and 
settled in life with someone who would supply his defects 
of character,” she said to herself. Having known Roland 
from childhood she had a very sisterly affection for him, 
and she felt saddened now to think that this had been mis- 
taken by himself and mother, if not by the rest of his fam- 
il}^ for a more tender feeling. 

Dr. Seaman had succeeded in securing a suitable office 
just in the outskirts of the village, in a part which was be- 
coming very popular for residence, and new houses were 
springing up rapidly. 

The house was a new one, and was offered to him on 
very advantageous terms, with the privilege of buying at a 
fixed amount at the expiration of a year should he so de- 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


305 


sire. At his request Ellen inspected it before closing the 
bargain, and was much pleased with it. 

“What a nice office for you, dear, away from the noise 
of the house.” 

“Ha, ha,” he laughed, “the noise of the house, and this 
one of the quietest little women in the world. Why, Ellen 
dear, I think the noise will be shut up in the office ; you 
hardly dream what a restless mortal I am.” 

“Well, Warren, you can be as noisy as you like, and I 
will help you if it adds to your enjoyment,” she responded, 
turning to him a face in which he read a bright future 
written in characters of tenderness and trust. 

He felt in that moment as he had not before, how entire 
was the self-surrender of this gentle spirit, who was giving 
up so much to venture unquestioningly upon an unknown 
future with him, and inwardly resolved that she should 
never repent her choice. 

“I am seriously annoyed about this trouble of Uncle 
Koger’s. It will be terribla if those scoundrels should suc- 
ceed in getting the Hermitage,” Seaman said as they were 
walking home. 

“ Oh, surely it can never come to that if there is any 
justice in the country. I know you will smile at me, but I 
cannot help wishing the case was to be tried in England. 
I should have no fear of the result, then.” 

“Indeed, I don’t smile at you, Ellen, for I found myself 
saying the same thing to uncle this very morning, for the 
administration of justice there is not subject to so many 
influences as here. But uncle has unbounded faith in St. 
Johns, and our judges, as a rule, are good men, at least 
those of the higher courts.” 

“ Why, where have you two been ? I have been searching 
for you everywhere,” said Elsie, when they reached the 
mansion, meeting them on the front steps with a letter in 
her hand. 


306 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Everywhere ! what a fib, Cousin Elsie. Everywhere is 
a pretty big place, and we certainly occupied one corner of 
it, did we not, Ellen ? ” 

“ But you have a letter for me,” said the doctor, trying to 
snatch the epistle. 

“ No, sir, it isn’t for you,” the young lady replied, dexter- 
ously eluding his grasp. “It is for Ellen, and she shall 
have it when she teUs me where you have both been, what 
you have been doing, all the nice things you have said to 
her, etc.” 

“ I knew the letter was for me, and it is for me — that is, 
for my other me. Give it up at once or I’U arrest you for 
defrauding the United States males, of which I have the 
honor to be one.” 

So saying, the speaker sprang for his cousin, who, how- 
ever, was too quick for him, and gaining the lawn was soon 
heading him in a rapid chase on the green turf. 

“ Bravo, bravo ! ” shouted Mr. Thompsom, who suddenly 
appeared on the scene. “I’ll bet on Miss Hastings. Why, 
Warren, you’re nowhere. Might as well chase Atalanta,” 
and indeed the physician, although a pretty fast runner, 
soon found he was outmatched and was finally obliged to 
abandon the vain attempt to overtake the flying steps of 
the swift-footed maiden, and retreated to the starting-point, 
panting severely after his exertions. 

“ Mr. Thompson compares Elsie to Atalanta,” remarked 
IVIr. Hastings, who also had joined the group of spectators ; 
“ but it is very evident that you are not Hippomenes, War- 
ren. 

“No, uncle,” said the young man as soon as he was able 
to speak, “ but I have a strong suspicion that Hippomenes 
lives not a thousand miles from here, and some of these 
days we shall witness another race with a very different re- 
sult,” and the speaker glanced at his cousin mischievously. 

Elsie, who was resting at a safe distance, felt her cheeks 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


307 


flush and burn, she could hardly tell why, at the remark 
and glance of her conquered foe, but heated as she was by 
the race, this easily escaped the notice of all but the one 
who had caused it ; and seeing that he was about to follow 
up his attack, she dropped the letter into Ellen’s hand, say- 
ing, “ You can make the confession after reading the let- 
ter,” and then turning to her cousin with “ For shame ! 
outrun by a woman ! ” she disappeared in the house. 

The letter proved to be from IVIrs. Thompson, in which 
she gave unqualified permission for the marriage to take 
place, although regretting exceedingly that her child should 
not return home first, and saying that the thought of being 
separated from her by the Atlantic was at first almost ap- 
palling, but after reflection she had gradually become 
reconciled to it in the belief that she should see them for a 
long visit once a year. “ To you, and you only, as the son 
of my old friend, could I trust Ellen under such conditions, 
but I have taken you into my mother’s heart, and feel that 
my dear child is safe with you,” she wrote to Warren in a 
postscript. 

“ Hurrah ! ” shouted he, as he finished reading, and, 
turning to the young lady with “What a jewel of a mother 
you have got, Ellen,” folded her in his arms and kissed her 
before the amused spectators. 

“ Hold on, young gentleman,” called out Louisa, “ if you 
are going to be my brother-in-law, you must behave your- 
self better in company than that.” 

“Ah, I foi’got ; I owe you a brotherly kiss, don’t I? — and 
will pay the debt forthwith.” 

“Eun,” said Elsie, making way for her, but Warren was 
too quick, and, catching her before she could escape from 
the veranda, after a vigorous resistance, succeeded in im- 
printing his lips upon her cheek, receiving in return a by 
no means gentle box on the ears, greatly to Mr. Thomp- 
gOB’s delight, who clapped his hajjds loudly. 


308 


- THE EUSSTAN EEFUGEE. 


“ Well done, Lou ! Bravo, Seaman ! Well, well, you 
can’t say, Louisa, but what you have been kissed once, 
any how, against your will.” 

For a time, all vexations were forgotten or ignored in the 
excitement of preparing for the wedding, which was ar- 
ranged to take place in a week after receiving Mrs. Thomp- 
son’s letter, as the father and sister of the bride were 
obliged to set sail the week following. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


BURYING THE HATCHET. 

A GLORIOUS morning ! Yes, no other adjective would just 
express the elastic, exhilarating air, the exquisite poise and 
balance, the perfect adjustment between earth and sky and 
atmosphere and the sensitive beings dwelling in it. It was 
the resting-time of the year, neither summer nor faU, but 
both harmoniously blended together, and giving tempera- 
mental conditions which made it a joy simply to be — to Hve 
and breathe — one of earth’s children. 

It was little past six o’clock, for as yet the sun had not 
more than traversed a brief hour’s path toward the zenith. 

A horseman at the cross-roads, so often mentioned be- 
tween the Hermitage and the big ravine, rode nervously 
up and down, pausing now and then to scan the landscape, 
especially in one direction, as if anxiously expecting some 
one. 

“ Can it be possible she did not receive my note,” he 
muttered to himself ; “ but no — Hiram never makes a mis- 
take. I must be more patient.” 

“ After a few moments, his anxious eye detected a small 
cloud of dust in the distance ; and the field-glass carried 
at his saddle-bow showed a horse and rider, rapidly ap- 
proaching. 

“It is she. Only one lady in the country sits a horse 
like that, and only one animal has that lengthy stride,” 
he said to himself, in a tone of exultation, which showed 
that his previous impatience had flown. 

“I am veiy late, but never mind. If it has not wearied 


310 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


you too much, we still can have an hour, and the air is like 
nectar this morning.” 

“I must confess to a little anxiety and impatience,” said 
the cavalier, as he turned his horse’s head to ride beside 
her ; “ but, believe me, it was on your account. I feared 
something had happened to you, and cannot forget the 
little trick this wilful Gyp once played you ; ” and Adolph 
glanced admiringly at the sleek head of Elsie’s pet, who 
erected his ears, as quite appreciating the remark. 

“ I must really thank you for your kind concern for my 
safety ; but I have no fear of my pony, when I am riding 
him. Any freaks he may have he reserves for harness.” 

“Still,” he persisted earnestly, “you must allow me to 
feel anxious for your safety for you have come into my 
life, and given it a larger value, and to my world you have 
given a different atmosphere and meaning. I now have a 
future and a promise — a look forward — and I owe it to you ; 
and I feel that I must thank you for it this morning.” 

“ I should, indeed, be rejoiced to think that I had helped 
you, or could help one to whom I owe so much ; but I can- 
not realize it at all. Indeed, I cannot. You are so strong 
and brave and self-reliant, I could as soon imagine this 
light breeze might affect that sturdy oak there as that one 
so frail and weak as I could aid or influence you in any 
way.” 

Elsie showed she was in earnest by her heightened color ; 
but her companion at once returned eagerly : “ Yes, yes ; 
and that oak-tree vibrates in every branch and leaf and 
root to this little breeze. It thrills it in every fibre, and 
helps to form and change its life.” 

“ You argue too well for me, and so I must yield ; and, 
indeed, the bare possibility of being able, in the humblest 
way, to influence a noble life to higher effort is too pleasant 
to be entirely put away.. But now, I must tell you why I 
asked you especially to meet me this morning.” 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


311 


Her companion bowed graceful^, saying : “Kemember 
you enrich my life by asking my services.” 

“Many thanks : but before I proceed, let us gallop downfc 
this beautiful stretch of road ; ” and away they went, at a 
ratthng pace, for about a mile. 

Elsie then resumed : “ The fact is, Mr. Adolph, father has 
been, threatened with a lawsuit to rob him of his estate ; and . 
the circumstances under which the claim is made are very 
peculiar. It concerns a countryman of yours ; and I thought 
that perhaps you or your father might be able to tell me 
something about him that might help to throw light upon 
what on the face looks like a very wicked transaction.” 

She spoke hesitatingly, and so different from her usual 
frank way that Adolph perceived that the matter was a 
serious one to her, and also that she felt a little diffidence 
in approaching him about it. 

“ Trust me. Miss Hastings, the matter is safe with me. 
Speak freely. If it is a countryman of mine who is trying 
to do this great wrong, father has much influence, and can 
undoubtedly help, or at least wisely advise.” 

Thus encouraged, she regained her usual self -poise and 
manner, and related the matter in detail. When she men- 
tioned the name of the old Kussian who was charged with 
having given the second deed fraudulently, an angry light 
leaped from the eyes of the listener, and he clutched his 
right hand on the whip-handle as if he would crush it to 
fragments. And as she concluded, he broke out ab- 
ruptly : 

“ It is an infamous he — a most unholy lie ! Nicholas 
Kuprianoff was wholly incapable of such a thing. He was 
the very soul of honor.” 

“Thank you for saying so,” said the young lady, grate- 
fully. “I always felt it, and told father so. That good old 
man, of whom I have often heard, was, I am persuaded, ut- 
terly incapable of such an act. But he has been dead so 


312 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


long that this knowledge will, I am afraid, avail us little 
now.” 

The Russian smiled, as he answered cheerfully : “ Oh, no 
doubt father remembers him well ; for the Patriarch ” — and 
he regarded her humorously, showing that he was aware of 
the name she had given the old gentleman of the Cave — ‘‘ is 
very old himself, as you know.” 

“Father says Nicholas must have been about seventy 
when he deeded away the estate, from all he can gather, 
and that was fifty years or so ago ; so none but quite old 
people would remember him, because they must have been 
grown up at that time to be available as witnesses, I should 
think. But then, I know nothing about law.” 

“ Can you not come and talk with the ‘ Exile ’ ” — and here 
again he smiled — “for what you say may be quite true, and 
I am no more conversant with the technicalities of law than 
you are ? I know he can be of valuable help in this 
emergency, and advise what is best to be done. Please to 
name a day, and I will meet you anywhere, and conduct 
you.” 

“But I thought I was free now to come and go as I 
pleased,” she replied, laughingly ; “ but I am afraid I shall 
require your services, after all, for I never could find my 
way.” 

“You could find the cave-entrance, but the subterranean 
passage is tortuous and difficult to a stranger ; and so I trust 
you will gratify me by still considering me your con- 

ductor, ever at command.” 

So Elsie promised to communicate with him as before, 
and inform him when she would be in the vicinity of the 
cave-mouth. 

“ I think I had best proceed alone to that point,” she said, 
“ because I have reason to believe that I am being watched 
by some one ; and it is easier for one person to escape ob- 
servation than two : for,” she added earnestly, “ I would not 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


313 


for worlds be the means of bringing danger to any of your 
interesting family.” 

“We trust you as we trust the Holy One,” said the gen- 
tleman, reverently bowing as he spoke. “ The soul is worthy 
of its tenement. Both speak one language — the language 
of truth and loyalty to the highest ideals.” 

“ I am afraid, Mr. Adolph, you judge me too favorably. 
You have not seen the other side of my character. I am 
fearful you would think my ideals were not so very high, if 
you saw me in one of my impatient fits sometimes.” 

“An impatience, no doubt, justifiable in its way. One 
cannot pretend to be satisfied with everything in this world. * 
Some things are wrong, and out of joint ; and why should 
not one say so — not petulantly, but simply ? ” 

She stroked Gyp’s glossy neck for a minute or two with- 
out speaking, as if half afraid to commit herself, and then 
said, looking at him almost doubtfully : “ Yes, but do you 
not think that a wider experience, a deeper knowledge of 
life precludes the possibility of impatience in any form ? 
Are not fretfulness and discontent really a sign of undevel- 
opment ? ” His look and mien expressed such full assent, 
that she continued : “ I have thought much since of what 
your father said regarding the repeated births into this 
world, and it seems to solve many a problem for me. I am 
afraid I must be born many times yet on this planet before 
I reach the intellectual and spiritual condition fit for a 
higher life. Do you really think that ordinary or inferior 
people can be thus developed to the lofty heights reached 
by the master souls of the race ? ” 

He listened eagerly, as if drinking in her words, and at 
once spoke as she looked at him inquiringly : “ I think that 
is possible ; and in no other way can one truly have a chance 
for wide development — that is, such development as this 
world can give. And surely every child bom here is en- 
titled to the best training and growth which his mother 


3U 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


earth can give and of which he is susceptible. Surely, in 
the economy of God, this earth must have a special place in 
the education of each individual of the human family, and 
perhaps no other world can exactly take the place of ours 
in giving us this training and development, and so we must 
return here by successive incarnations until we have reached 
this point of mental and spiritual growth.” 

“Do many of your — I mean of the Order, believe as you 
and your father on this point ? ” 

“ Not many, but yet it is steadily gaining ground. En- 
tering the order is the first step in throwing aside the 
puerile beliefs and superstitions of the orthodox Russian 
Church, and when once men and women begin to think on 
these matters, there is hope for them. The trouble is, re- 
ligious beliefs among all peoples are handed down from 
generation to generation— much as property is, and the 
majority never think of looking into and examining the 
groundwork of the creeds and confessions they recite so 
glibly.” 

They had been so interested in their conversation that 
they had allowed their steeds to walk as they listed, and 
now found themselves at the “ Big Ravine,” and a glance 
at her watch showed Elsie that unless she rode with un- 
usual speed she would be very late for breakfast, and so 
the horses were turned homeward at a galloping pace. 

“ Why, Elsie, my child, where have you been ? We have 
been waiting breakfast these twenty minutes, and here is a 
letter from Australia in answer to the one I wrote regarding 
Esmond,” exclaimed Mr. Hastings, as the young lady, flushed 
wfith her unusually rapid ride, leaped from the saddle and 
ran up the front steps. 

“ Take care of him, John, he is very warm,” she called 
out, as the man led away Gyp. “ Oh, father, I have had 
such a delightful ride, but it is too bad about breakfast. 
I will be ready in five minutes or less,” and she ran to her 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


315 


room, but returning in an instant called back: “But, 
father, is the news good, from Australia ? ” 

“Yes, yes. Quite good. Now get ready for breakfast 
and don’t keep our guests waiting any longer,” and again 
she vanished. 

“Nice doings, indeed. Miss Madcap, riding about the 
country in this wild fashion. Well, I declai’e ! Are all 
your countrywomen as independent in these matters as 
you are. Miss Elsie ? ” asked the Englishman as they as- 
sembled at breakfast a few moments later. 

“I must ask father to answer that question,” she laugh- 
ingly replied. “ I think he has always given me a pretty 
free rein.” 

“My daughter has generally followed her own bent in 
such matters,” Mr. Hastings said, smiling. “ She has 
never worshipped at Madam Grundy’s shrine, and has 
been governed largely by her own instincts. But she is 
an exception, I fear, rather^ than the rule, in compar- 
ing her habits and life with those of her young country- 
women.” 

“ So I should suppose, judging by those I have seen so 
far. A good, strong physique is, I rather imagine, much 
less common here among young ladies than with us.” 

“One thing I am persuaded of,” said the host ; “ that the 
solution of the problem of the equality of the sexes, which 
is exciting so much attention nowadays, lies in this matter 
of physical vigor. If woman can bring herself to equal 
health with her competitor man — not necessarily equal 
strength, but that condition of bodily endurance which will 
enable her to meet the various demands made upon her in 
the struggle of life, without loss of health and life-long in- 
validism, as we see so often now after a few years of efibrt 
— then, and not until then, can she successfully compete 
with him, hand to hand and shoulder to shoulder.” 

“ Half the world will probably agree with you, uncle,” 


316 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


said Seaman ; “ but I doubt very much if the other and most 
interested half will.” 

“ Not most interested, Warren ; for we are just as much 
interested in this matter as they are, for the hope of the 
race lies with the women. But if they wish to carry suc- 
cessfully the same burdens that we do, they must lay aside 
the self-imposed other burdens which at present are so 
largely sapping their vitality. Look at the facts. Boys 
are encouraged to exercise and develop their bodily powers 
in every way. They are dressed in loose-fitting garbs which 
do not restrain • the full use of lungs or limbs, but leave 
them free and untrammelled to run, jump, or otherwise ex- 
ercise any or all of the five hundred or so muscles of their 
w'onderfuUy constructed bodies. Then look at the poor girls 
— the girdles, and the cinctures, and the corsets, and the 
high-heeled shoes with narrow soles, and the other abomin- 
able contrivances for checkmating nature 'which go to make 
up the girl’s dress of the period. And, ‘ Remember, j^ou are 
a young lady,’ is perpetually being sounded in her ears, 
until the desired effect is produced. Crippled feet, mincing 
slow step, feeble muscles, pale complexion and a languid 
air — the whole enshidned in an atmosphere of ‘ perfect pro- 
priety.’” 

“ Oh, IVIr. Hastings, what a picture of our poor sex,” ex- 
claimed Louisa, “ and I must protest that it is too highly 
colored — a libel. Why, I never wore a high-heeled shoe in 
my life, nor sister either — did we, Ellen ? ” 

The bride-elect blushed at this direct appeal, and hesi- 
tated as she answered : “Well, only at parties sometimes, 
and on Sundays, I think.” 

“ Why, you little simpleton, do you call those shoes high, 
not more than an inch and a half, I am sure ? ” 

The confession and resulting remark proved too much 
for the risibilities of the others, and a general laugh ensued. 

“ Trust Ellen for bringing the ghosts out of the closets,” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


317 


said the Englishman, heartily ; “ only a question of opinion, 
Mr. Hastings, you see.” 

‘'I am ready to own. Miss Louisa, that young English- 
women have a great advantage over our girls in the matter 
of dress and exercise, and, perhaps, dieting, but even they 
are placed at a great disadvantage beside their brothers in 
these matters. What I do claim is, that the average woman, 
when the responsibilities of life begin to press upon her, 
finds herself shorn of one-half of her natural physical pow- 
er by the unnatural course of training she has been put 
through, and so must draw upon her reserve nervous force 
if she attempts to accomplish as much work, of almost any 
kind, as her male competitors. And, remember, these 
habits of girlhood are a second nature and w’ill not be ma- 
terially changed in womanhood, but rather emphasized, for 
now she will largely give up proper exercise in consequence 
of the exhaustion she will experience, and so a gradual giv- 
ing way of the nervous system, and a premature decay, is 
only a matter of time. This, to my mind, is the woman 
question ! Woman must change her physical habits as re- 
gards dress, exercise, etc., and then there is no reason why 
she cannot compete successfully with her brothers in any 
department, almost, of legitimate labor. Let her caiTy no 
burdens which nature does not impose, and she may even 
outstrip man in the race, hindered and hampered as he is 
by some vile habits which he has acquired and which are 
continually thwarting his best efforts, such as the use of 
tobacco and alcohol.” 

“ Well, I am glad that the lords of creation have some 
failings too, just to equalize matters a little. I think a cer- 
tain gentleman at the table may apply those last remarks 
to himself,” said Louisa, glancing mischievously at her 
father, who answered, good-humoredly : 

“ I understand you. Miss Saucebox. I must plead guilty, 
Ml’. Hastings, to a fondness for a good glass of punch, and 


318 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


a pipe after dinner ; and these girls will give me a sly 
touch about it now and then. These things are so common 
with us that we rarely give them a thought. Over here, 
however, they seem to occupy a good deal of attention.” 

“ But do you not think, Mr. Thompson, that the preva- 
lence of the drinking habit and the carelessness exhibited 
with reference to it on the part of those who know bet- 
ter is a fruitful cause of the abject poverty, and crime, and 
misery, which abound in the crowded centres of Great 
Britain ? ” asked the host. 

Very possible ; but constant use dims our vision to such 
matters, I suppose. I frankly concede, though, that your 
country leads the van on the temperance question. But I 
am afraid I am too old to change my habits now ; yet I think 
if I was beginning life again I would not touch alcohol or 
tobacco.” 

Ellen looked up with a smile of sympathy at her father 
as he finished speaking, for she knew how costly these 
habits had been to him in one way and another. The 
memory of a loved brother, saved as by fire, from a drunk- 
ard’s grave, to whose brink he had been dragged by these 
twin agents of physical ruin, rose up before her and told 
her what lay behind and prompted her father’s words. 
Seaman knew of the circumstance, although he had not 
met the young man, who was at present in Jamaica, and 
instinctively surmised what was in her mind ; and, divining 
that the subject must be a painful one for their guests, he 
hastened to change it by asking his uncle what had become 
of his cousin Esmond and how it was that he had not been 
to see them lately. 

“I can hardly explain that, for he has no special business 
that I know of, and yet he is always in a hurry and seems 
to have a great deal to do,” said his uncle, with just a shade 
of annoyance in his face, when the name of the erratic 
nephew was mentioned. “ However, Elsie,” he continued, 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


319 


after a moment’s pause, “ suppose you ask Harry to dinner 
to-morrow to meet our friends and his cousin Warren.” 

“ I think that will be so nice, father, and I will write to 
him to-day,” she answered, in a gratified way, as this con- 
cession on her father’s part convinced her that the news 
from Austraha had been favorable to the young man. 

The letter was not from the gentleman witten to, for it 
seemed he was away from home on a two months’ trip, but 
from his private secretary, who had been instructed to open 
all correspondence, and attend to it as required. The 
writer, Mr. Merton, said he could answer the queries re- 
garding Mr. Esmond as well as his employer, as the young 
gentleman was well knowm to the firm. 

We consider him a very bright, capable, conscientious young man, 
and one who is popular in society. He has, indeed, remarkable 
winning ways, and his absence is regretted by many here. He has 
great self-reliance, and will go alone on a smaller hand than any 
other man I ever saw. I can truly say that I never heard a doubt 
expressed as to his moral standing. 

Any further information will be cheerfully given at any time by 
Mr. Wheat or myself. 

Very respectfully yours, 

Jas. H. Merton. 

To say that the uncle was quite satisfied with regard to 
the nephew’s past life would not be true, but he felt that it 
would be at least ungracious to show suspicion any longer, 
especially as he had by implication promised to be governed 
by these letters ; and so he requested Elsie to invite Es- 
mond to dine with them, which he knew would be consid- 
ered by that gentleman as a sign that the hatchet, was 
buried, for the present at any rate. 


CHAPTEE XXVI. 


WEDDING BELLS. 

Cousin Hakry, let me introduce you to another cousin, 
of whom you have often heard me speak — Dr. Seaman.” 

“ Mr. HaiTy Esmond ! And right glad I am to meet you 
and know you,” said the doctor, coming forward and frankly 
holding out his hand. 

Esmond responded, but with much less warmth, which 
surprised Elsie, as she knew the young Australian was 
usually quite effusive in his style of approaching others. 
What was the matter with these newly acquainted relations, 
for no sooner did their hands touch, and they looked each 
other full in the face than there seemed to be a mutual 
recoil, or rather the recoil was on the part of the physician 
largely, for Esmond was much the more self-possessed of 
the pair ? The face of the former expressed unbounded 
astonishment, while observable on the latter’s countenance 
was simple dislike thinly veiled with that covert sneer 
which Elsie had frequently seen there before when some- 
thing annoyed him excessively. 

“ Why, Cousin Seaman, what is the matter ? ” exclaimed 
he, recovering his usual manner at once. “If you were 
not a medicine man yourself, I should say you needed the 
help of one, to judge by your pale cheeks. Cheer up, man. 
You evidently saw a ghost of the past in my face, and were 
scared. Not the first case of mistaken identity you’ve had. 
I’ll bet something.” 

This was said in such a tone of pleasant banter that 
Warren at once by an effort shook off the unpleasant feel- 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


321 


ing excited by his new cousin’s face, and answered cheer- 
fully : “Well, you did remind me of somebody, I confess. 
These likenesses are remarkable, though I hope you will 
excuse ■ my yielding so foolishly to a sudden impression.” 
So saying, the young man shook hands heartily, to Elsie’s 
great satisfaction, though she could not altogether free her 
mind from an unpleasant feeling, when she remembered 
Esmond’s conduct of a few days before on first seeing 
Warren at a distance. 

“Had these two met before under unpleasant circum- 
stances ? ” would keep coming into her mind in a question- 
ing way all through the dinner hour. 

Esmond soon made himself at home with the English 
guests, and led Louisa Thompson in to dinner, and judg- 
ing from the continual banter and raillery carried on be- 
tween them they seemed to be kindred spirits ; in fact, it 
was easy to see that the cousin from the Antipodes was in 
excellent humor, and acted as a man who had just tri- 
umphed over some serious obstacle. Only once did he 
seem to lose his gay, easy manner. Seaman noticed ; and 
somehow the physician found himself involuntarily watch- 
ing him, and glancing in the direction from which the 
depressing influence had seemingly come, saw the little 
black eyes of the Frenchwoman gazing at the Australian 
in a peculiarly sinister manner. So vindictive was the look 
of the housekeeper, and so mocking was the half smile on 
her face as she furtively watched him, while apparently 
engaged in directing the servants, that Seaman was reaUy 
startled, and something of the old feeling returned which 
he had experienced on meeting Esmond at first. 

“ Can it be that this bold cousin of mine has a past which 
calls for vengeance, for assuredly, that is Nemesis before 
me ? ” he said to himself, and would like to have said so to 
Ellen, could he have done it without attracting the atten- 
tion of the others. 

2X 


322 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Seaman had arrived at that point in his love experience 
in which no thought seemed worth having, or thing either, 
unless he could share it with her who, indeed, he now felt 
was his other self. But although this impulse to draw his 
companion’s attention to the housekeeper was almost uncon- 
trollable, yet a moment later he rejoiced he had not done 
so, for he suddenly remembered what had entirely escaped 
him before, that this was his cousin, one of his own blood, 
over whom it was his duty to throw the segis of kinship, 
even if he were deserving of the repugnance which he felt 
toward him. 

Whatever Dr. Seaman thought of his new cousin, it was 
soon evident that the young man had contrived to win a 
high place for himself in the estimation of the young ladies, 
for Louisa whispered to Elsie, as they left the dining-room, 
“ What a charming man your cousin is^ Elsie ; he seems to 
have been everywhere, and know almost everything.” And 
Ellen, even, said that she thought he was “a very nice, 
gentlemanly fellow, with no nonsense about him.” 

“ A letter for Mr. Esmond, miss,” said the girl, entering 
the drawing-room after dinner, as the different members of 
the party were variously amusing themselves. Mr. Kich- 
ards, of the Sinclair House, sent it up, and Mrs. Wagram 
told me to bring it up at once, as it might be of impor- 
tance.” 

Esmond’s quick ear heard his name mentioned, and ex- 
cusing himself hastily to the three young ladies whom he 
had been entertaining on the veranda with a graphic account 
of some humorous adventure, leaped through the large open 
window and almost snatched the epistle from the girl. 

“Who do you say sent this letter to me?” he asked, 
after nervously glancing at the printed name on the corner 
of the envelope. 

“ Mrs. Wagram, sir,” replied the servant, timidly, some- 
what abashed by his abrupt manner. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


323 


“ Dam ” was the only syllable of a word, the balance of 
which, body and tail, seemed to be swallowed in an internal 
volcano of smothered indignation, which caught the ears 
of Dr. Seaman on his way through the hall to reach the 
party outside. The gentleman paused a moment in doubt 
and surprise, as the girl who had brought the note flitted 
past him on her return, and then the words, “ so that she- 
devil saw it, did she ? ” uttered in a low tone of concentrated 
bitterness, reached him through the open door. The phy- 
sician had purposed entering the drawing-room, and join- 
ing the group outside by passing through the window by 
which Esmond had entered. Now, however, he changed 
his mind, and hastily and noiselessly retracing his steps he 
passed out by the front door, and reached the veranda that 
way. 

“ Did you find the book. Dr. Seaman ? ” said Louisa. 

“ Yes, and I see you are right ; I quoted the wrong au- 
thor.” 

“ Bear witness all, that this learned lord of creation, 
M.D., etc., has confessed for once that he is in the wrong 
and then she added, “ I must tell Mr. Esmond.” 

“I shall be delighted to hear,” said that young gentle- 
man, coming through the window of the parlor at that mo- 
ment, rejoining the party with a face in which smiles 
seemed to be struggling to drive away the scattered rem- 
nants of frowns. Seaman regarded him with a curiosity 
not unmixed with admiration ; for his trained eye saw the 
traces yet lingering of a fierce internal conflict. 

‘‘What tremendous self-control that fellow has,” he 
thought. “ He is full of passion, and naturally as impetu- 
ous and uncertain as gunpowder ; but he has a wonderful 
mastery of himself. He has studied in some strange school.” 

The girl who had brought the note to the young man 
returned at once to the housekeeper’s room, where she 
found that lady nervously awaiting her. 


324 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“Well, what did mi lord say ? ” she queried, her black 
orbs snapping fiercely. 

“ I gave him your message, madam, and he asked, ‘ Who 
did you say sent it ? ’ and he just scared me, he did, he 
looked so fierce-like. And then I told him again, and as I 
left the room I heard him say something bad.” 

“ Let me hear what he said — I insist, Maggie ; ” and the 
“ foreign lady,” as the servants called her, looked so per- 
emptory that Maggie yielded at once, and almost before she 
knew it blurted out : 

“He said ‘dam,’ madam — I mean, he just said ‘dam.’” 

The housekeeper laughed heartily, as she walked up and 
down the room, working her hands nervously. 

“ That was all ? Well, you can go. Don’t mention this to 
anybody — mind, nobody — nothing about it, and I won’t 
forget you, Maggie. Ma bonte, won’t le bete look one of 
these days. I’ll teach him one lesson. Ha, ha, madam no 
account ? Ma foi,” she said, as Maggie left the room, after 
promising to be as silent as the grave. 

The wedding morning ! and everybody and everything 
astir bright and early. The ceremony was to take place at 
the Hermitage, and by the Episcopal minister of Melville. 
This was in accordance with the wishes of the bride, as the 
Thompson family were members of the “ Establishment,” 
although the Englishman privately admitted to his host 
that personally he did not accept the doctrines of the 
Church. “ But,” he remarked smiling, “ it is the church of 
the crown ; and, as a loyal subject, of course I must be a 
member of the church of the crown, and then, too, it is the 
most respectable, you know, Mr. Hastings.” 

“But, surely, you cannot find much satisfaction in be- 
longing to a church or religious organization which you 
do not heartily believe in,” said the other, in astonish- 
ment. 

“ Yes, yes, I can. Why, my dear sir, the majority of 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


325 


thinking Englishmen to-day simply regard the national 
church institution as a very respectable antiquity — much 
as we look at Westminster Abbey, or the famous cathedrals 
of our country. Spiritually, it is almost defunct ; but, as 
a venerable and interesting relic of the past, it is a very 
fine thing, and we would grieve heartily if anything should 
happen to it.” And the jovial Briton twirled his watch- 
keys and seals, as he walked up and down the room, with 
such a humorous, philosophical air that his companion could 
not help smiling, as he replied : 

“ Then I am to understand that the average Englishman 
of the higher and middle classes to-day cares little or noth- 
ing about the Church, as an aid to worship or spiritual de- 
velopment, and would vote for its continuance just as a 
part of that vast system of machinery by which the British 
empire is governed ? ” 

‘‘Precisely,” returned the other. “ Call it a police insti- 
tution, if you like it any better ; for that is largely its func- 
tion.” 

“Persuasion, then, loyalty to an establishment, tradi- 
tional feeling, deep-rooted opposition to change and, es- 
pecially among the lower classes, self-interest — constitute, 
with the natural religious feelings, what the Church of 
England depends and relies on to-day to maintain its 
ascendency in your country ? ” queried Mr. Hastings. 

“ Bight again ; and I am somewhat surprised that you, an 
American, can grasp the porition so clearly. The Church 
means spiritually very little to the masses of England. The 
truest religious expression is to be found among the dis- 
senters, who, however, hitherto, and in a large degree even 
to-day, have had to pay for their defection and disloyalty — for 
it is so regarded by the church party — by loss of caste and 
social standing. The truth is, the clergy have usually talked 
over the heads of the mass of the people, even supposing 
it was possible to interest them in a system of theology 


326 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


which was utterly at variance with their experience and 
common sense.” 

“ I agree with you there, Mr. Thompson ; for I recollect 
talking with one of your Thames boatmen on these matters 
one day, and I asked him, among other things, if he attended 
church? ‘In course I does. Yer doan’t think I’m a 
Methoday, do yer, sir ? Noa, I belong to the Church. Been 
attending most long as I remember.’ ‘Well,’ I said, being 
somewhat curious to find out the spiritual standing of these 
people, ‘ then no doubt you learn a great many good 
things at church. Can you tell me something about the 
service last Sunday ? I suppose you were there ? ’ ‘ Yes,’ 

he answered, ‘ in course I was there, and the wife, too ; and 
parson he did the sarvice, and pretty long it is, too, and 
then a stranger chap he coome in the pulpit with his black 
gown on, an’ he preached, an’ he preached, and said summat 
about doing yer dooty, an’ I says to Betsy, pretty hard to 
ask a ‘feller to do his duty on ten shillin’ a week, an’ he got 
a family to support. I wonder what he means by dooty, 
anyhow ? ’ And, on closer questioning, I found out that 
although this man had been attending this church since 
childhood, yet he had never had any clear idea of what it 
all meant ; and the outcome of all this church instruction 
was — that there was an old man somewhere in the sky, who 
would look after one, and make.it aU right some day.” 

“ A very fair sample of the peasant thought in relation to 
national church teaching and theology. Too many of the 
people attend church from interested motives — such as to 
gain favor with their superiors, and because it is considered 
respectable,” rejoined the Briton. 

This conversation had taken place in the library, while the 
bride was being “ decked for the sacrifice,” as Louisa put 
it — the wedding was to take place at noon precisely. 

No pen could do justice to the lovely bride in her snowy 
toilet, surmounted by that exquisite veil — the gift of Mi\ 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


327 


Hastings. The two bridesmaids, only less radiant than the 
queen of the occasion, looked charming in their white robes ; 
and a most exquisite ^tiara of white roses, freshly gathered, 
was worn by each in lieu of a more elaborate head-dress. 
Dr. Seaman looked a little impatient as the rather lengthy 
but solemn and imposing service of the Anglican Church 
Americanized was in progress, and was, perhaps, a trifle 
nervous, although he vigorously disclaimed this charge 
when so accused by the bridesmaids, Elsie and Louisa, af- 
ter the ceremony. 

‘‘ Of course I realized the responsibility of the occasion, 
and the fact that I was giving away my liberty,” he said ; 
“ but I was as cool as a cucumber, and always gave the re- 
sponses in the right place, which is more than either of you 
bridesmaids will be able to do, when your turn comes. I’ll 
wager something.” 

“ Why, I know it all off by heart now,” returned Louisa. 

“ So I suppose,” he answered quickly — “ don’t doubt it 
in the least. Thought you’d be ready for emergency, eh ? 
Thanks for your frank confession. It gives me some idea 
now of how some young ladies employ their spare time. 
I’ll take a note of that ” — at the same time taking out his 
note-book, and pretending to make an entry. 

Louisa looked annoyed, and actually colored, as she re- 
torted : 

“It’s no such thing. I know it as a matter of general 
information, having heard it so often. But it was really 
refreshing to see a sceptic like you caught in the meshes 
of the church at last, and obliged to acknowledge the au- 
thority of the Prayer Book. Didn’t he look humble and 
penitent, Elsie ? ” 

“ Yes, you did, Warren ; and it was so becoming to you, 
that I hope you will continue so.” 

“Humble and penitent! Well, really, Ellen, on your 
honor, did you think I looked either humble or penitent ? ” 


328 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


pleaded the groom demurely, turning with a comically ap- 
pealing look to his wife. 

“ Oh, pray don’t ask her,” called out Louisa. “ She was 
too much occupied in thinking what she had to say next ; 
and any spare time she had was given to wondering if her 
veil hung quite straight.” 

“ What a fib, Lou ! ” said the bride. ‘‘ Why, I never 
thought about the veil once ! ” and this was uttered so 
earnestly that all the others laughed in concert. 

Warren, however, covered his bride’s retreat by adding 
“No, indeed, Ellen dear, you had something better to think 
of ; and for myself, if I looked humble, it was no wonder in 
the presence of such regal-looking bridesmaids, wearing 
crowns ; and as for the penitence, of course I was penitent 
for my sins of omission in not having used the privilege of 
the last minutes of my bachelorhood in fraternally kissing 
the bridesmaids, which I believe is always customary. But 
with your permission. I’ll make amends now.” 

Instant retreat on the part of the young ladies alone 
saved them the threatened punishment ; and at this mo- 
ment Mr. Hastings appeared, to lead the way into the din- 
ing-room, where they found a beautifully decorated table, 
while Mrs. Wagram, whose work this was, stood smilingly 
by, as the guests entered, many of whom audibly expressed 
their admiration of her attractive handiwork. The room 
was festooned and trimmed like an arbor, and over the 
centre of the table hung a superb floral crown. By an in- 
genious device, several fountains of colored water threw 
their spray together with a beautiful blending of colors over 
a handsome fretted glass bell, immediately under the crown, 
beneath which rested the chef-d’oeuvre of the occasion, the 
bridal cake. Fruit and flowers and those wonderful little 
nicknacks, which certain artistic fingers so excel in making, 
were in profusion. The table was largely a feast for the 
eye, as the substantial viands were served from side-boai’ds. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


329 


“I wish our Cave-friends could have been here,” whis- 
pered Elsie to her father, as she entered the room. He 
smiled, as he answered : 

“ I wish so, too, my child, if it would have pleased you.” 

Esmond had been invited, but sent a polite note of ex- 
cuse — having a “ prior engagement,” he said. 

The usual speeches and good wishes followed the lunch- 
eon — Mr. Thompson congTatulating the happy man on 
having secured one patient, at least, to begin practice with. 

“ But how about the saying,” asked Louisa, “that doctors’ 
wives are always sick, and shoemakers’ always barefooted ? ” 

“ I know one doctor’s wife that doesn’t mean to be sick,” 
answered AVarren — “ not if she takes her husband’s advice, 
whether she takes his medicine or not,” fondly looking at 
the fair girl beside him. 

“ Don’t you let him experiment on you with undeveloped 
mixtures and new drugs, cousin Ellen,” said Elsie. 

“At least, not until he has taken it first himself ; and, if you 
do that, you’ll never take any medicine. I’ll engage,” added 
Louisa. But James came to announce the carriage, and in 
a few moments more the happy couple were on their way to 
the train en route for Niagara, where Ellen preferred to spend 
the two weeks of absence which they allowed themselves. 

“Now, father,” she had said tearfully, on parting with 
her parent — and in spite of the brave faces both felt it in- 
tensely — “ you will tell mother how dreadfully I feel at 
letting you go home without me, but somehow I couldn’t 
help it ; ” and here she broke down completely, and had to 
be hurried into the carriage by Seaman, who felt almost 
like a criminal at having been the cause of so much suffer- 
ing to these three. Louisa was much affected, but not so 
much as her father and sister ; for she was resolved to re- 
visit America, and did not regard the distance as such a 
serious obstacle ; besides she was of a much stronger nat- 
ure than EUen, and more self-reliant. 


CHAPTER XXVn. 


THE “GREAT BOOTY” MINE. 

“Now, St. Johns, it’s no use being down-cast. ‘It’s a 
long lane,’ you know, and I tell you that you shall have her. 
AVhat if she did refuse you once, or ten times, for that 
matter ? I’ve got something to say in the matter ; and I 
think I understand woman’s nature as well as the next fel- 
low, I don’t care who he is. But you can let me have that 
thousand I won from you, can’t you ? I want it this week, 
badly?” 

Roland seemed to shrink back at these last words, and a 
look of distress passed over his face, as he slowly answered ; 
“ I hardly know, but I’ll try. Mother asks curious ques- 
tions now, and wonders when the dividends are coming. It 
can’t go on much longer, I’m afraid ; and if father ever finds 
out how this money has gone,' it’s all over with me. I n;iust 
leave home forever.” 

“ Tut-tut, man ! The governor’s got plenty of shiners. 
He can stand bleeding a while longer ; and when you are 
the happy master of the Hermitage, you can flip your fingers 
at the world.” 

“But couldn’t you let this money matter run a little 
longer ? Why, Esmond,” he gasped, taking out his pocket 
account-book, and running his eye over some entries — 
“ why, I have had over four thousand dollars from mother 
already. I dare not ask for any more just yet. Won’t 
those fellows wait ? ” 

“ Pooh-pooh, man, don’t show the white feather in this 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


331 


way. What is four, or even ten thousand dollars ? Why, I 
often won and lost that in a single evening. All it wants 
is nerve. You think too much of small sums of money. 
Nothing shows a man’s greenness like that. You lost the 
money to me, and I lost it to Jenkins ; and he says he must 
have the tin, and so I have to push you for it, and you must 
push the old lady. Just boost her up on the mine, can’t 
you ? Tell her we shall take out ten thousand a week, after 
the new machinery gets in, and the water is all out. Here 
are some circulars, which you can show her. What do you 
think of that ? ” And the speaker took a printed circular 
from a roll of others, and held it before his companion, and 
while holding read, in a dramatic style, as follows : 

Office of the “ Great Booty ” Mine. 

Yepsing, Teuton County, Nevada District, 
August 17, 18 — . 

To the President and Directors. 

Gentlemen I have tlie honor to present to you the report here- 
with of the committee of investigation appointed hj you at your last 
monthly meeting. As you will see by the report, the committee, hy 
personal investigation continued through many days, determined that 
the “ Great- Booty ” is the richest mine by far on the ridge — that 
there are millions now in plain sight, and that the unseen wealth is 
probably inexhaustible. They see no good reason why ten millions 
should not be taken out this year. 

J. H. Rob, Secretary. 

Esmond read this with a great deal of flourish and em- 
phasis, at the same time frequently glancing at his com- 
panion to note the effect. He then handed him the printed 
report, signed by the committee. 

“ No need for my reading that ; but you can show it to 
your mother, you know.” 

When Mrs. St. Johns, yielding to the solicitations of her 
son, agreed to buy shares of stock in the Australian mine, 
she had little idea of the cabalistic word “assessments.” 
But at the period at which the conversation just narrated 


332 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


took place, the good lady could have given a voluble ex- 
planation of the word, with a large series of marginal refer- 
ences, in the shape of refined expletives couched, of course, 
in her favorite French. She had been steadily drained of 
all her surplus cash, as well as that of her daughters’, in 
addition to all she could cajole, borrow, or beg from her 
husband on any pretense whatsoever. But the rainbow of 
hope ever arched the heavens of her expectancy, and the 
promised pot of gold was ready for the finder. Yet when 
a letter from her son reached her, inclosing the report and 
secretary’s letter, of which we give an extract above, and 
urging that she send at once $1,000, she felt and looked 
really ill, and retired to her own room to re-read the letter, 
doubtful if she really understood the contents. The report 
and ofiScial communication she had not yet looked at. 

“ What does the child mean ? A thousand dollars more ? 
Why, he told me, I am positive, the last time I paid an as- 
sessment that it would probably be the final one.” And 
then she again read the epistle, and noted the stress put on 
the inclosed report by the writer. 

“ Why, mother, just think of ten millions ! And what are 
a few thousands in the shape of assessments, compared with 
that ? You will be independent for life, and can live like 
a queen.” 

Eagerly, indeed, she devoured the golden words of the 
secretary, and then the more formal return of the committee 
of mining experts — for so they were designated — each of 
them having hieroglyphics after their names, for the mystic 
letters meant little more to her eyes, showing their won- 
derful and rare scientific attainments. 

‘‘ Ten millions,” she repeated to herself, and presently 
the room seemed to expand into a palace, and the very air 
took on a golden hue — an auriferous vision, in which she 
beheld a royal lady, arrayed in the richest products of far- 
famed India’s looms ; a figure before whom her hitherto 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


333 


bighest conception of even Oriental magnificence paled 
and dwindled into insignificance ; an army of devoted and 
praise breathing courtiers, only less splendidly attired, 
pressing forward to win her favor or smile. The atmos- 
phere seemed redolent of the incense of delicate flattery. 
Ten millions ! Those magic words ! For awhile she re- 
signed herself to this delicious and gorgeous entrance- 
ment, this golden reverie, until a dark cloud came be- 
tween her and the beauteous scene ; and on this cloud 
appeared inscribed, in plain, unmistakable characters, 
$1,000. She shuddered, and tried to bring back the lovely 
scene which had been obscured, but in vain ; only other 
clouds appeared, on wliich she could read $500 and $1,500 
and $700, and a number of dwarf-clouds, having $50 or 
$100 marked on them. The poor lady was fain to awake 
to reality, and by opening her eyes get rid of these nubi- 
form ghosts with financial breast-plates. Something must 
be done ; but what should that something be ? “I must 
refuse any more money. Indeed, I have not got $50, and 
dare not ask Buskin for it.” But the report and the vis- 
ion ! She wrung her hands, and actually shed tears. Sud- 
denly, a thought came — “my diamond cross.” Bushing to 
her dressing-case, she opened a secret drawer, and lifted 
with trembling fingers a beautiful cross, sparkling with 
brilliants, attached to a gold chain. It was a superb thing 
— a triumph of the jeweller’s art. Gazing on it, the lady’s 
eyes filled with tears, and she pressed her lips to the trinket. 
Hardly conscious of the act, she adjusted the chain round 
her neck, looked in the mirror for a second to note the 
effect, and again took her seat, and re-read the report. 
“Oh, what shall I do?” said the poor woman, agonizingly. 
“ Buskin never would forgive me, if I parted with it — my 
w’edding gift ! ” 

The cross had been given on the tenth anniversary of 
their wedding, in ratification of a promise made by Mr. St, 


334 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE, 


Johns that he would give his wife a diamond cross, for 
which she had frequently expressed an ardent desire, on 
the receipt of his first $5,000 fee. Being successful in win- 
ning an important case for a wealthy manufacturing firm, 
involving over $200,000, and finding himself richer in con- 
sequence by some $8,000, he fulfilled his promise by pre- 
senting a $2,000 diamond cross to his wife, on the next 
anniversary of their wedding. Her almost childish joy on 
receiving this valuable gift was so great, and her gratitude 
so unbounded, that the lawyer felt almost compensated for 
having “ made a fool of himself,” as he expressed it to a 
friend, “ in laying out such a large sum of money for a 
'bauble.” 

“I only ask you, my dear,” he said to her, “that you will 
never part with it without my knowledge, and will wear it 
at our wedding anniversaries and the birthdays of the 
children.” 

“ No, no, I never can let it go ! The money must be 
raised in some other way. I never could look Euskin in 
the face again, if I parted with it.” 

But the desire for present gratification is generally 
stronger than the fear of remote penalty for wrong-doing. 
The jewel was taken to a money-lender, who was accus- 
tomed to accommodate ladies in financial straits ; and, un- 
derstanding the situation at once, M. Le Clerk suavely in- 
sinuated that madam could easily have an imitation cross 
made for about fifty dollars, which would cover the trans- 
action completely, and no one would be a bit wiser. 

“ I assure you, madam, when I did go in business in Paris, 
les grande dames did leave their jewellery with me most of 
the time. Even ze court ladies with ze empress, and ze em- 
press herself, wear ze imitation, and nobody know. I will 
give you $1,000 for ze cross.” 

After some bargaining, the broker agreed to give $1,200 
*-^the Qwuer to the privilege of redeen^jng the jewel 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


335 


within a year, on payment of the money with thirty percent, 
interest, and a bonus of 1100 for the accommodation. 

Roland received the check for SI, 000, secretly wondering 
how his mother had been able to raise it on such short no- 
tice ; and he felt like a criminal, when he read the words 
in the letter : “ Now, my dear boy, see that this money is 
properly applied ; you don’t know what it has cost me, but 
it must be the last. Your mother believes in you as she 
does in her own life, and would make any sacrifice for you ; 
but I can raise no more money. The IMine must begin to 
declare dividends now. Don’t you think so yourself ? ” 

“ My mother is the best friend I ever had ; and I feel as 
if I was acting like a devil toward her ! ” he said passionately 
to Esmond, on handing him the check. “ Esmond, is 
there anything — now, be honest with me — is there anything 
in that mine ? ” 

“ Plenty in it, my dear fellow — plenty in it. The only 
trouble is in getting it out. But say, you have done well. 
I’m proud of you ; but what’s wrong ? Did the old lady 
kick badly this time ? ” 

“ Proud of me, when I feel like as if I ought to be cow- 
hided ! But nothing seems to move you.” 

“ Come, now — no dumps. Didn’t I tell you that every- 
thing is booming, and that you will be master of the Her- 
mitage before you know it. But if you’re going to show 
the white feather — well, good-by.” 

“I don’t want to show the ‘ white feather,’ as you call it : 
but this thing can’t go on for ever ; and Elsie, as you know, 
avoids me. I don’t see any hope in that direction.” 

“ St. Johns, just leave me to manage this matter. This 
check is all right ” (putting it in his vest-pocket) ; “ and now 
let us to other business. I have something to tell you,” 


CHAPTEK XXVm. 


SOLVING PROBLEMS. 

“ My dear child, I have been thinking of you and your 
father much lately. I grieve to know of the trouble which 
threatens you. Adolph informed me that you wished to 
speak with me, and I am so glad you have come to-day.” 

So saying, the Patriarch led his guest to a soft fox-skin 
settee, and then took a seat opposite her. 

She fancied that the venerable form seemed somewhat 
more feeble since her last visit, and to rest more heavily on 
the cane than usual ; but there was the same mild, genial 
face, with its wealth of fleecy beard and silver locks, and the 
same quiet dignity of presence as heretofore. 

“ My son has put me in possession of the main facts of 
the case ; so I will not trouble you by a repetition, but con- 
tent myself by asking a few questions.” 

Elsie’s answers to the questions of the Patriarch soon put 
him in possession of the facts of the case, so far as she 
herself knew them. One or two points she could not speak 
of with certainty, and promised to obtain the information, 
and send to the Exile as speedily as possible. 

“ I feel sure that help will come to you in this emergency, 
my daughter, and perhaps from unlooked-for sources. I am 
a very old man, and have had some peculiar experiences, 
especially in my early life, of plots and plans for fraudulent 
purposes, and I feel satisfied that this is a conspmacy ; and 
you may rest content that any aid I can ’VfUl be most 
cheerfully given,” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


337 


“ Oh, thank you ! Your words give me courage. Some- 
how, I think you can help us. I cannot tell why, but I feel 
it.” 

He looked at her quietly for a moment or two, with those 
penetrating eyes, and then smiling, said, taking her hand in 
his : 

‘ ‘ Tell me, my child, would it distress you so very much 
if your father lost this property ? Even if it made you poor, 
do you really fear poverty ? ” 

He seemed almost anxiously to await her answer. 

Flushing as if something had been insinuated which 
clashed with her higher instincts, she responded eagerly, 
half rising, unconsciously, from her seat as she did so : 

“ Oh, father ! ” — he had asked her to call him father — “ can 
you think that I value property merely for itself, or fear 
poverty for myself ? No, no ; but it would sadden my dear 
parent’s remaining years if he were obliged to leave the 
Hermitage — and then, too,” she added, her voice quivering 
in spite of herself, “ it is my childhood’s home, with which 
all that is best in my past life is associated. I do not fear 
poverty, and often wish that a way could be opened up so 
that I could help bear my full share of the great burden of 
existence which seems to weigh so heavily on many of my 
fellow-creatures.” 

Her answer seemed to please, for he smiled fondly on 
her, answering slowly, as if thinking over her words : 

‘‘With a nature like yours, my daughter, such desire 
means performance. All duties lie not in the same channel 
of life. You are doing your work, and a way will open, up 
yet for a larger work if you still cherish this desire and re- 
main in this spirit.” 

“ Thank you, so much ; but I sometimes fear I shall never 
find my true, that is, my highest work, where all my powers 
shall be employed in advancing some grand cause which 
^lalists mj whole and sjrmpathies — conscience, heart, 


338 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


judgment, all — wliich will bring into action the very best 
that is in me, that I am capable of.” 

“You will find such work, my child ; but it may not take 
such shape that you will recognize it when it comes. But 
yet it will possibly seem partly familiar, too, as being work 
attempted or begun before you entered this stage of your 
being.” 

She looked at the aged face inquiringly, and then, at once 
grasping his thought, said, eagerly : “ You mean in the 

IDrevious life, before I was bom into this present. I have 
thought much of what you said about that. It is quite new 
to me ; but somehow it does seem sometimes as if it might 
be true. But I, cannot understand about memory. We 
would remember something, surely, if we had had an intelli- 
gent life before this. Besides, if some are born repeatedly 
into this human state, as I understood Air. Adolph to say 
was your opinion, then what becomes of the past life at 
each change ? ” 

“ I am aware of the difficidty which seems to lie here ; 
but it is, believe me, more apparent than real. We do re- 
member, only memory takes the form of quicker under- 
standing, larger intelligence. Is the wise man, the savant 
of to-day, the man who remembers best the petty items of 
his early training, of his youthful studies, or the details of 
his college life, or even the academic lore ? No ; it is the 
one who, perhaps, almost forgetting those lessons in their 
peculiar and individual relation to his education, yet has 
gained from them mental strength, power of sustained 
thought, clearness of intellectual processes, and a mental 
and spiritual tone which gives him supremacy w'herever the 
higher nature dominates the lower. The intellectual giants, 
as Shakespeare, Humboldt, Newton, Goethe, etc., are, I be- 
lieve, the minds which have been gradually developed from 
mediocrity to the altitude attained by them, in this very 
that iSj by passing; thrpugb the discipline of this life 


THE RUSSIATST REFUGEE. 


339 


many times. But I see you want to ask a question ; speak 
freely, my child. It is only by seeking knowledge that we 
can hope to find it.” 

Elsie had been listening intently, and was rather startled 
at the last remark, as showing a perception of her thought 
by her companion which she could not understand. 

“ I would like to ask a question — but how could you tell 
that ? ” she asked, almost nervously. 

“ I saw it in your mind, my daughter. Be not alarmed. 
I am no necromancer, or wizard. You can attain this power, 
too, and one day in the fast-coming future it will, I believe, 
be the common property of the race. But I will tell you 
what your question was, though as yet unshaped in words, 
and then proceed to answer it. It was. Why, if the being, 
as said before, until he reaches the life of man, has not ar- 
rived at the memory-point, should not one who is entering 
upon a second or third stage of this human existence have 
at least a partial memory of the previous stage or stages 
passed through in human form ? Am I right ? ” 

Wondering, almost with superstitious awe, she looked at 
him as he concluded, and answered : “ Yes ; that was ex- 
actly the thought which would keep coming up in my mind 
while you were speaking — does he know he lived before ? ” 

“He does know it, but how? To partly repeat then, 
memory of a thing is knowledge of that thing, and that 
memory will be in exact proportion to the knowledge. But 
it is rarely that we can refer our knowledge to its source, 
or origin. The educated man has information concerning 
many things, but he can hardly be expected to tell whence he 
gleaned that intelligence. It has come to him from a hun- 
dred or a thousand sources, and in as many different ways. 
Yet you cannot deny that, after all, it is memory, although 
he may fail to inform you as to how he remembers. So 
Shakespeare or Goethe had what is commonly called intui- 
tive knowledge of many things, which was in reality the 


340 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


memory -of the former earth-life and the intelligence of the 
things known there. The study, and discipline, and ex- 
perience of the preceding human life comes to them in the 
second as a larger intelligence, or appreciation, or under- 
standing of the facts and things presented to them ; and 
this on successively, until we have phenomenal power, genius 
— Shakespeare, Goethe, Bacon, and in fact all those who rise 
above their fellows mentally and spiritually.” 

“ Then the greater the intelligence, or talent, or genius, or 
whatever we may call it, shown by an individual, the oftener 
we may conclude he has been born into and lived in this 
world ? ” asked his hearer. “ But if this is true, why should 
not the supreme spirit have given longer life here, which 
would have answered the same purpose ? ” 

“ Not so, my child ; for most of us are bound by circum- 
stances to certain paths of life, and so hampered by condi- 
tions that we can only develop in certain channels. So 
that in order to obtain symmetrical development we must 
be ushered into life again and again, under different condi- 
tions, so as to call out and exercise the latent and hitherto 
unused powers and capabilities of our complex natures ; and 
so the experience and training goes on until the being has 
advanced as far as the earth-life can bring him, and is called 
to a higher and different life. But here comes Adolph, to 
tell us that the precious time which you can stay with us 
has almost expired, and so we must close this subject, hop- 
ing, if you still feel interested, to continue it on some future 
occasion.” 

Nadia and Sophia, who had been down in the ravine when 
Elsie arrived, now appeared with Adolph, who had been to 
seek them. 

Elsie could not but admire the dexterity and strength 
which the Kussian woman and her daughter exhibited in 
climbing the rope-ladder leading from the great chasm be- 
low to the cave room in which they were. Hearing their 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


341 


voices, she and the Patriarch had gone to the door or win- 
dow, whichever it might be called — the mouth of the cave 
which looked out upon the vast expanse beyond and below, 
which Elsie used to gaze upon with such quiet enjoyment 
during her convalescence of a few months before. 

“ Slava Bogu ! Slava Bogu ! ” shouted the little maiden 
as she beheld her friend, and bounding toward her, was re- 
ceived with open arms. “ How good of you to come again ! 
I have wanted you so much lately,’’ she said, panting be- 
tween the words with the exertion of running and climbing 
she had undergone. 

“ Dear little woman,” returned the young lady, fondly 
stroking the jet-black curls of the young Kussian. ‘‘I have 
wanted to see you just as much, and have thought of you 
often. See what a nice picture I have brought you, to hang 
in your own room,” and Elsie unwrapped a pretty little 
artistic gem which she had put into a frame of her own 
making. It represented two children admiring a hutch of 
pet rabbits, and was really a charming thing in its way. 

Uttering an exclamation of delight in her native tongue, 
the young girl rushed to her mother with the prize, and 
then returned to kiss the hand of her benefactor. 

“ How can I thank you ? So kind of you to think of 
me ! ” 

These simple people, with their quiet ways and pleasant 
manners, always soothed and rested Elsie in a degree that 
no other society did. She felt that here everything was 
genuine — real, no make-believe — nothing said or done for 
effect ; she felt thoroughly at home, and as usual, parted 
from them with reluctance. 

The Patriarch in bidding her good-by, said, meaningly : 
“ Now, my daughter, tell your good father not to lose heart 
about this conspiracy — for such I am confident it is — for 
something assures me that Hght will come on the darkness. 
But if things should seem to be going wrong, don’t hesi- 


349 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


tate to come here. Come promptly, and tell me all about 
it. Will you promise me this ? ” 

“ WilUngly,” she replied; “you can depend on me, for 
there is no one I would sooner take counsel with, in an 
emergency, and I will tell father what you say.'’ 

Elsie had left her horse at Hiram’s cottage, from whence 
Adolph had conducted her to the cave. On the return, she 
rallied him good-humoredly on his unusual quietness. . 

“ Why, Mr. Adolph, if I had not just come from your 
home, I should fear something was wrong. I do not like 
to ask if I can in any way be of service, but you know how 
glad either father or I would be to serve you.” 

Fearing she had spoken untimely, she paused, glancing 
at his rather troubled face. But the sound of her voice 
seemed to help and rouse him from his seeming lethargy, 
and his old cheerful manner returned at once. 

“ I am oppressed to-day more than for some time. The 
truth is, I am feeling more and more how little I have done 
in my life, and yet I long to do ; and, as owned to you 
once before, feel the surges of a worthy ambition within 
me. It does seem as if every avenue was walled up. My 
father’s peculiar relations to society, my own limited educa- 
tion and lack of social culture, also the want of a definite 
occupation. I am depressed at the surroundings and out- 
look. These feelings used to crop up before, at long inter- 
vals ; but now, and during the past few months — may I say, 
since you came like a sunbeam into our shadowy existence 
— they are with me as a perpetual nightmare.” 

• His voice trembled as he closed, and he turned aside, 
that she might not see his troubled face. She fully appre- 
ciated the condition of this strong nature, full of noble 
promptings and longings, but hedged in and baffled by 
untoward circumstances. 

“You can and must break these bonds, and escape from 
the bitter thraldom of circumstances, this despotism of con- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


348 


ditions. I so wish you would tell father as frankly as you 
have spoken to me. I know he could advise you so much 
better.” 

Oh, no, I could not tell anyone but you, and you only 
can show me the way of escape. We have a superstition in 
Kussia, that the first person seen on awaking in the morn- 
ing, apart from the family circle, is the lucky one, and can 
give best counsel. Your entrance into my life broke my ig- 
noble slumbers and roused me to the glorious possibilities 
of the day. Speak and complete the good work — speak and 
tell me what I must do with the new day into which your 
coming has ushered me.” 

The Eussian spoke vehemently and with kindling eyes, 
from which his very soul seemed to flash. She trembled be- 
fore his almost fierce impetuosity, and wished in her heart 
that her wiser parent w^ere present to give the answer to 
this thoroughly awakened spirit — awakened to life and its 
claims and responsibilities. But Elsie was strong, and ac- 
customed to decide and think for herself, and although her 
voice trembled she spoke out bravely. 

“Would that I were the lucky one gifted with wise 
counsel, as your pretty story put it, but alas, I am but a 
simple country girl, constantly seeking counsel myself. Yet 
I will try and suggest w'hat seems to me the best thing to 
do under your peculiar circumstances, and what it occurs to 
me I should do were I in your place.” 

“ Thank you, that is just what I desire,” her hearer re- 
sponded, gratefully. 

“ Mr. Adolph, you know you have a great aptitude and 
ability for natural science, particularly botany and geology. 
Now, I have heard father often remark that if one would 
take up in earnest any one of the natural sciences and pur- 
sue it perseveringly, he would soon necessarily acquire a 
liberal education ; for these studies are so affiliated with each 
other that a knowledge of one brings us into contact with 


344 


THE KUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


all the others, and so compels information in every direc- 
tion.” 

“I understand, but would such a course of study, which 
I should indeed delight in, give me eventually a definite 
place and occupation in life ? ” he asked, eagerly. 

“ Certainly it would, for father says the world is always 
ready to welcome the true teacher, the man or woman who 
knows more on any subject of interest than their fellows ; 
you would write down your knowledge and tell others what 
treasures you had gained, and share with them.” 

“But could a man who had not been educated in the 
schools and colleges write so that the world would read ? 
I fear not,” he said, rather despondingty. 

“Yes, they would, for in these studies you would be 
trained and cultured as no college course could do ; and 
then the triumph of knowing that you had reached suc- 
cess by your own unaided efforts ; ” and she narrated the 
story of the Scotch quarryman geologist and the peasant 
botanist, with such effect, that the eyes of her companion 
fairly glowed, and his form seemed to grow to larger di- 
mensions under the stimulus thus imparted. 

“ Your kind father promised me books from his library, 
and perhaps he will tell what others I may require and 
where I can purchase them.” 

“ Father will be delighted to aid you, and can give you 
wiser advice than I can. May I teU him the suggestions I 
have made?” 

“ Certainly ; but I shall foUow your guidance, for you are 
the spirit of the morning to me, remember, the lucky one 
whose counsel I must follow.” 

In a moment more she was in the saddle, and as the 
gentleman handed her the reins and whip, the fervent 
“ thank you, you have lifted the cloud,” fell on her ears like 
a benison to speed her homewards. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


THE TRIAL. 

When Elsie reached home she found her father anxiously 
awaiting her in the library. He had two things to com- 
municate. One was, that the trial had been fixed for the 
following Monday, Mr. St. Johns and his associate having 
visited the Hermitage during her absence, and decided with 
the proprietor that nothing would be gained by postpone- 
ment, and in a case of the kind it was generally an advan- 
tage to bring matters to a crisis as speedily as possible. 

“ One reason I have for advising thus,” said the lawyer 
“ is, that I have been informed on good authority that the 
other side have been making strenuous efforts to secure the 
services of Sharply, of New York, who has a great reputa- 
tion in cases of this kind, and is remarkably successful in 
all matters where audacity, shrewdness, and an elastic con- 
science are necessary. He has wonderful influence with a 
jury, and is the best cross-examiner I ever heard. He 
would worry us considerably, especially since we have no 
bona fide deed to show. Now he has at present a big case 
on hand, and cannot come for this term of court, and so I 
believe in coming to trial at once, if you are ready and will- 
ing.” 

“I thought St. Johns was most hkely right, so next 
week will probably settle the fate of our home.” And ]\Ir. 
Hastings’ voice grew somewhat husky as he uttered these 
words. 

“ My dear father, I have no fear of the result. I cannot 


346 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


believe that my birth-place will go into the hands of 
strangers, and the Patriarch says that it is a conspiracy, he 
is sure.” 

“ Undoubtedly, that is the case, but not so easy to prove 
to the satisfaction of an ignorant jury,” returned her parent 
who manifested more perturbation than she had ever wit- 
nessed in him. 

Oh, I must tell you. Mr. Thompson and Louisa sail 
from New York on Saturday. They are here now, having 
returned from Toronto this afternoon. Let us not allow 
this miserable trial business to cast a gloom over the little 
time they will be with us. We shall see some way out of 
the woods, no doubt ; ” and, the ordinary cheerfulness of her 
beloved parent being again restored, at least externally, 
Elsie kissed him and retired to dress for dinner. 

“ It is too bad having to go so soon, but I have come 
pretty well to the end of my tether, and starting a week 
earlier than I anticipated will not matter much, besides 
Lou here is beginning to , sigh for merry England. But 
we have had, indeed, a most delightful trip, and can give 
glowing accounts of the prosperity of our American cous- 
ins.” 

“ But how about Dr. Seaman and Ellen ? ” asked Mr. 
Hastings. “ Surely you do not leave without seeing 
them ? ” 

*‘No, indeed ; I dare not face my wife if I did such a thing, 
and so in accordance with a previous arrangement I tele- 
graphed to them to meet us in New York, where we will 
spend a couple of days together.” 

“ Surely, Louisa, your father does not mean to leave to- 
morrow for New York ? ” demanded Elsie, turning to the 
young lady. 

Louisa nodded her head, saying, “ I believe that is his 
present plan. Can’t I peiisuade j^ou to go back to England 
with us, I can promise you a most pleasant visit ? ” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


347 


Mr. Hastings looked at his daughter in such an alarmed 
way at this mere suggestion, that she could not forbear 
laughing, as she replied : 

“Look at my father’s face for an answer. Oh, no, I 
could not take aw^ay his housekeeper, besides I am too in- 
terested about the trial next week ” — she bit her lip regret- 
fully, as she said the words, but it w^as too late. 

“ Oh, yes, about the trial, Mr. Hastings. Any new de- 
velopments ? ” asked the guest. ^ 

So the facts had to be stated, and, after all, it was not, ' 
perhaps, much regretted that the affair had been alluded to, ^ 
although unintentionally, for Mr. Thompson’s strong com- 
mon-sense and practical way of looking at things, placed 
the matter to both father and daughter in a more cheerful 
light, and the discussion of it, which, try as they would, 
was really uppermost in their thoughts, was the best thing 
in the end, for after the talk each found it easier to dismiss 
it from the mind. 

The next morning the carriage was at the jdoor by eight 
o’clock and the luggage aboard. 

“ Good-by, Mr. Hastings, if things go well, promise that 
we shall see you at the Yews, with your charming daughter, 
some time next year. Come, Elsie, help me persuade him 
to say yes.” 

“Perhaps, but decision reserved ; however, I have prom- 
ised Elsie a visit to Old England some day, and you may 
be sure yours wdll not be the last house we shall seek.”’ 

“ Well, well, you’re as obstinate as an Englishman. Kiss 
me, my dear, for I regard you as one of my daughters now. 
Indeed, you must come into my heart, to help make up for 
Ellen.” 

Elsie kissed the bluff hearty Briton, and then with eyes 
blinded by tears, bade good-by to Louisa. 

“I wish you were my sister,” whispered the warm- 
hearted English girl, as she embraced her. “ I would so 


348 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


like mother to know you. But you will come and see us 
some time next year, won’t you ? ” 

The Hermitage really felt and looked lonely to Elsie after 
the visitors had departed, for Louisa and she were very 
similar in their tastes and habits, and had become quite in- 
timate. They had together explored all the famous places 
and picturesque points in the neighborhood, and the heir- 
ess of the Hermitage for the first time realized how much 
she had lost in not having a sister, or girl companion of or 
near her own age. 

The trial was to take place at C , the county town, 

and on the day appointed all those interested were as- 
sembled at an early hour, ready for the case to be called ; 
for it was placed high up upon the docket. The trial 
promised to be an exciting one, and being of an unusual 
character, had caused a good deal of discussion among Mr. 
Hastings’ neighbors, who were on hand in large force. 

The proprietor of the Hermitage was not exactly a popular 
man among the lower classes and farmers, being considered 
somewhat too aristocratic, and as a magistrate his rulings 
had frequently given offence ; but aU respected him for his. 
firmness, courage, and inflexible integrity ; and now that an 
attempt was being made by a mere stranger to filch away 
his homestead, public opinion was roused in his favor, and 
the desire to see him come out victorious was intense. 

“ Say, Hiram, what do ’e think ’bout the squire’s chances ? 
Run pretty hard with him, eh ? ” said a tall, swarthy farmer 
who lived not far from the Hastings’ home. 

The Giraffe, who had been invested by Gretchen’s careful 
hands in clean- starched white shirt, an unusual luXui’y, and 
otherwise dressed in his best hunting suit, stood conspicu- 
ous in the centre of a small group of loungers on the Court 
House square. 

“Wall, naow, friend Clums, I’m blessed if it ain’t kind o’ 
skeary — but darn my butes, suthin’ ’ll drop ef that ‘pop 


THE EUSSIAN REB^UGEE. 


349 


go the weasel ’ feller ovar thar ever puts his hoof in the old 
place.” 

“ What’ll yer do about it ? Guess ’fill hev to go ’cordin’ 
to law, an squire ’ll hev to put up with ’t, as well as a poorer 
man,” remarked a young, sallow-faced man who just then 
joined the group. 

The trapper frowned at him from his altitude, and his 
hands clasped nervously, as if he would like to strangle 
something, as he answered, rather scornfully : 

“ Ye’r almighty smart, Tim Allen, but guess yer ain’t no 
lawyer. Ef a man’s lived twenty years on a ranch, isn’t he 
titled to it by persession, aye ? an let me tell yer, friend Alf’s 
agoing to hev persession of his ranch ’s long ’s he wants it, 
I reckon.” 

There were two or three present who looked as if they 
would like to dispute this rather despotic position, but they 
realized how little chance there was of getting the best of 
the trapper in an argument, and in case of a quarrel — which 
was to be considered among the possibilities — it was gen- 
erally conceded that Hiram could lay out any two men in 
the country-side either with hands or weapons. 

Just then the usual notice was given of the opening of 
court, and the people outside crowded in to secure eligible 
seats. The earlier cases on the docket proved of minor im- 
portance and were soon disposed of, all but one being given 
over to referees ; so that, by 11 a.m., the “cause celebre,” as 
the wife of the senior counsel for the defence would have 
said, was reached, and the clerk called : 

“Liscomb vs. Hastings. 

“A suit to recover a certain property known as the Her- 
mitage, situated in County and State. 

“ Are you ready for trial ? ” 

The respective attorneys having signified their readiness, 
the case was formally opened by the senior attorney for the 
plaintiff, Mr. Anthony Ferns. 


350 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


The attorney was a small man with intensely black hair 
and eyes, seemingly of Hebrew origin, and having a singu- 
larly nervous but impressive style of address. His voice 
was clear and high-pitched, and he spoke in carefully chosen 
words. 

He stated the grounds on which his client based his 
claim. That his father, Thomas Liscomb, had purchased 
the estate of Nicholas Kuprianoff, a Kussian, who had pur- 
chased it from the State, built the house, and laid out the 
grounds. That after the purchase was completed and paid 
for, but before it could be properly transferred and taken 
possession of, the said Thomas Liscomb, the purchaser, died 
suddenly, leaving his entire effects to his only child, Arthur 
Liscomb, the present claimant. The heir was absent in 
Australia at the time of his father’s death, and his address 
was not known. So the personal effects, including a quan- 
tity of old books and papers, were, after a mere cursory 
examination by the owner of the premises rented by the 
elder Liscomb, boxed up to await the son’s return. ^ 

All this happened over fifty years since, during which 
time nothing had been heard from, or of Arthur Liscomb, 
until a few months ago, when a letter was received at the 
Post-office, addressed to William Dexter or his children. 
It was delivered to Isaac Dexter, William Dexter, the father, 
having died thirty years ago, and found to be from Arthur 
Liscomb, asking if his father had left any property, personal 
or otherwise, and requesting that any papers left by the 
deceased be forwarded to him in Australia, at his expense. 

Dexter and his sister were very much astonished at the 
receipt of the letter, having naturally enough supposed 
the younger Liscomb to be dead long before. But the 
books and papers, as it happened, were found in fair con- 
dition, and brought down from the attic, where they had 
lain with other odds and ends which had been accumulating 
there for half a century. They reached Australia safely, 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


351 


and Arthur Liscomb, to his astonishment, found among the 
private papers the deed on Tvhich this suit was based. His 
father’s memoranda showed that he had long desired to 
possess the Hermitage, and had made repeated offers for it ; 
but the Kussian proprietor refused all proposals, until he 
finally became involved in some trouble which necessitated 
his withdrawal from public observation for a time, and of- 
fered to dispose of the property to Liscomb ; aud so the son, 
now an old man, to his amazement and indignation, found 
that for half a century he had been living in obscurity and 
poverty, while legally owner of one of the finest estate in 
his native country. 

“ Verily, Hruth is stranger than fiction,’ ” said the counsel, 
dramatically, “ and we are now ready to call our witnesses 
to prove our position, and to establish our rights — that is, 
after a word of further explanatioh from my colleague, Mr. 
Lay cock.” 

The junior partner of the firm now arose, holding a bun- 
dle of papers in his left hand, while his right toyed grace- 
fully with a singular-looking charm appended to his watch- 
guard. It represented a snake’s head holding' an egg in its 
mouth. Some said the worthy advocate resembled the 
reptile in question, being smooth and sleek, and of a gener- 
ally slippery, oily appearance. Quite in contrast to his 
legal brother, he was stout and florid and of strongly san- 
guine temperament, with an almost bald crown, fringed 
by reddish hair. 

Yes, Counsellor Laycock had a contented, well-fed ap- 
pearance, and a placid smile which seemed, in its bland 
frankness, to be the very personification of integTity and 
urbanity. As a witty physician had once observed on see- 
ing the two partners together : “ Truly a legal marriage 
based upon physiological laws. Vinegar and sugar— clients, 
choose.” 

‘‘ May it please the court, after the very lucid way in 


352 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


which my learned partner has presented the case, it only 
remains for me to say that we are willing to concede in ad- 
vance that the present incumbent of the Hermitage prop- 
erty purchased it from a Mi\ Whitely, who also had pos- 
sibly bought it from the original proprietor, Nicholas 
Kuprianoff, although, we ask that both facts shall be clearly 
proven, and the deeds produced ; but we are willing to con- 
cede this much in order to simplify matters and also to 
show that we make no charge whatever against the integ- 
rity of Mr. Hastings, whom we believe to be an honorable 
gentleman, and to be a victim of fraud himself in this mat- 
ter.” And the speaker waved his fat hand gracefully in the 
air, and smiled at the buzz of satisfaction which his state- 
ment had produced. 

St. Johns jumped excitedly to his feet. May it please 
your honor, we don’t ask any concessions or compliments 
whatsoever, from the learned counsel. We hope to be able 
to show to the whole world where the knavery in this trans- 
action really belongs. We ask no gratuitous testimony to 
our integrity.” 

*‘Mr. St. Johns, please sit down ; you will have youi* op- 
portunity after awhile,” said the judge, quietly, with just a 
suspicion of a smile on his face, while the audience laughed 
loudly. 

Smiling more blandly than before, and casting a provok- 
ingly comical look at the pugnacious St. Johns, the counsel 
proceeded. “What we distinctly and positively claim and can 
prove is, that Nicholas Kuprianoff was a rascal, and deliber- 
ately deeded and received payment for the property twice.” 

“ That’s a lie,” came in strong, clear tones from the audi- 
ence. 

“ Mr. Sheriff, arrest that man at once, and bring him be- 
fore the court, and I will teach him to insult the court in 
this outrageous manner,” said the judge, turning very red 
in the face. 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


353 


But in vain the official passed among the spectators ; the 
culprit was not to be found, and he was unwillingly obliged 
to report his failure to the judge. 

“Well, I warn the spectators that if this occurs again the 
court-room will be cleared. Go on, Mr. Counsellor.” 

Though somewhat flurried by the blunt rejoinder to his 
proposition, the attorney still maintained his confident 
smile, as he proceeded to reiterate what he had said. 

“Yes, your honor, I repeat that the man, Nicholas 
Kuprianoffi after having bargained and sold this property 
to my client’s father, and received payment therefore, 
within a brief period disposed of it over again, as if he still 
owned it, to Mr. Whitely. The Russian has, in the course 
of nature, been in his grave for so many years, that his very 
existence would be now forgotten if it were not that retri- 
butive justice, in the person of my " client, comes forward 
even at this late day, to open his dishonored grave, drag 
him thence, and hold him up to execration and scorn.” 

A low, mellow, mocking laugh ran through the house, 
but although the sheriff and his assistants were keenly on 
the alert, they failed to detect the offender. 

The judge flushed angrily, and said, imperatively, “ Mr. 
Sheriff,” and then apparently changing his mind, motioned 
to Mr. Laycock to proceed. 

“ I will now close by saying that the Russian, after wait- 
ing some time and shrewdly concluding that the deed of 
sale had not been seen by anyone, and probably supposing 
that the younger Liscomb was deceased, deliberately resold 
the Hermitage to a Mr. Whitely, a stranger, who had just 
come into the country, and was looking for an eligible in- 
vestment. We call our first witness, Arthur Liscomb.” 

Immediately there was a hum of expectancy in the court- 
room, and everybody leaned forward to see the plaintiff in 
the case. Nobody claimed to have any knowledge of him 
or his whereabouts, except his attorneys, and they had kept 
^3 


354 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


their own counsel. No doubt this was done" for the sake 
of dramatic effect, and to invest the case with an air of 
mystery, which might alarm and befog their opponents. 

At the words of the junior counsel an elderly man 
arose and came forward from the obscurity of a pillar, 
which had hitherto effectually screened him from observa- 
tion. As he advanced slowly toward the witness-stand, it 
was seen that he -walked feebly, leaning upon a cane; He 
had a long, white beard, and wore a skull-cap, and was 
dressed in the style of about forty years before. It was 
generally decided among the ladies that he was quite a 
handsome old man, and the interest in the trial became 
intense. 

“ Pretty hard to be kept out of his property, if he really 
owns it.” 

“I’m sure he needs the property at his time of life.” 

“Anyhow Mr. Hastings is rich, and he can afford to lose 
it better than this man can,” were a few of the remarks to 
be heard among the people in the seats, and standing by 
the walls. 

“Silence in the court,” shouted the officer, and the tem- 
porary confusion ceased, and again all was close attention. 

In answer to questions of counsel the witness stated that 
his name was Ai’thur James Liscomb ; that he was seventy- 
four years old, having been twenty-four when he left home 
for Australia ; that he was bom in MelviUe, and was the 
only child of Thomas and Mary Anne Liscomb, deceased. 

After answering a variety of questions, mainly intended 
to bring out the points touched on by counsel in their 
opening addresses, Mr. Ferns turned to St. Johns, and 
smiling courteously said, “ The witness is at your disposal, 
counsellor.” 

The counsellor for the defence rose with alacrity, and it 
was noticed that the witness at once seemed to lose his 
listless and weary air, -which had enlisted a good deal of 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


355 


sympathy for him among the audience, and became brighter 
and seemingly younger in appearance. He sat more up- 
right in his chair, and bent eagerly toward St. Johns. 

“ You say your name is Arthur James Liscomb ? ” began 
the counsel 

“ Yes,” responded the other simply, at the same time 
raising his hand to his mouth, as if to arrest a short hack- 
ing cough with which he seemed to be troubled. 

After a number of preliminary queries came, “Why did 
you not send for your father’s papers and effects before ? 
Why did you allow fifty years to pass away before thinking’ 
of your home and parent ? ” 

The answer came readily enough : “ My father and I had 
quarrelled, and being naturally very high-spirited, I would 
not write first to heal the breach. I had left home against 
my father’s will, who wanted me to enter his office, and 
follow his business, whereas I wanted to see something of 
the world. This was the cause of the trouble. At last I 
accidentally heard of my father’s death, through one who 
had just come from Melville, and that he had died very 
poor. This astonished me, as I knew that on leaving home 
my father had at least $20,000 in cash, but concluded he 
must have lost it in speculation of some sort. However, I 
wrote at once to some friends of mine here, now dead, to re- 
quest particulars, and they fully corroborated what I heard, 
and informed me that the books, papers, etc., had been 
placed in Dexter’s hands awaiting my orders. I felt the 
disappointment keenly, having counted on my father’s prop- 
erty to set me up in business, and resolved never to return 
to my native land, or have anything to do with the paltry 
trash to which I was heir. But time softens all things, and 
so, a year ago, having become old myself, and retired from 
business, I experienced a strange longing toward the home 
of my youth, and a desire to know something of my 
parent’s latter days, hence my letter, and the receipt of the 


356 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


papers already referred to. On looking over the papers 
what was my surprise to find a deed, completed but a day 
or so before my father’s decease, showing me that I was un- 
doubted heir to the Hermitage estate, and then the mystery 
was all explained, and I now saw where my father had in- 
vested the savings of his lifetime, the ^20,000 spoken of. 
I recollected his having repeatedly told me of his desire to 
possess this property, and his determination to own it, if 
possible, before he died.” 

This in substance was the evidence elicited by the severe 
cross-examination, in answer to numerous questions. And 
so carefully were the answers given that no effort of counsel 
availed to invalidate them in any degree. It appeared to 
be a straightforward story, without a flaw in any respect, 
and the sympathy of the audience appeared much divided 
when the aged witness left the stand. 

The deed was . here produced and read to the court by 
IVIr. Ferns, and was the usual printed document of parch- 
ment filled in by the pen, stating that “for and in consid- 
eration of twenty thousand dollars, the receipt whereof is 
hereby acknowledged,* I, Nicholas Kuprianoff, the party of 
the first part, do grant, bargain, sell, and convey to Thomas 
Liscomb, party of the second part,” etc. ; then followed a 
minute description of the Hermitage property, and the 
deed was signed in full by Nicholas Kuprianoff, and also by 
Elias Stroub and George Gayling, long since deceased, but 
well remembered as reputable citizens of Melville. 

The deed was also indorsed as having been properly 
registered at the Court House in Melville, and was signed 
by the registrar then in office, but now deceased. 

“We submit this to the court and jury for the fullest ex- 
amination and scrutiny. Everything is as clear as the day ; 
we ask no concessions, no concealment,” and here he glanced 
triumphantly at St. Johns and his partner, who looked 
rather depressed at present appearances, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


357 


The Giraffe,” who had managed to crowd himself pretty 
close to the bar, and had been fidgeting about in his seat 
nervously during the exhibition of the deed, could restrain 
himself no longer, although he knew the sheriff was almost 
at his elbow, and leaning his long neck toward Mr. St. 
Johns, blurted out in what was meant to be a whisper, but 
which sounded like the hoarse croaking of a raven : “ Durn 
my butes, but ef that old crow does friend Alf eout of his 
hum, why, durn his skin, but I’ll twist his innards for him.” 

“ Sheriff, remove that man at once from the court-room,” 
said the judge, peremptorily, when the irrepressible burst 
of merriment which this sally produced had somewhat 
subsided. 

“ Come, Hiram,” said the official, who knew him well, and 
did not relish his commission, “come, you’U have to go 
out. The judge is angry,” and he laid his hand upon the 
trapper’s shoulder kindly. 

“ Loose yer holt, or suthin’U give way. Haw, haw, haw ! 
to go to put a feller aeout cos he talks in his sleep. Haw, 
haw ! Jedge, I ’casionally whisper kind o’ in my sleep. Jes’ 
tell yer man to be still, will yer, or maybe he’ll get hurt.” 

The trapper had now drawn himself up to his full propor- 
tions and looked down on the officers who crowded around 
him, as a full grown cat might at a parcel of kittens. 

To put the athletic and fearless mountaineer out of the 
room by main force would, they w^ell knew, be an almost 
hopeless task, although there were four of them, and so 
they contented themselves at first by coaxing him. 

But at this juncture Mr. Hastings rose and requested 
the judge that the offender be allowed to remain, promis- 
ing to be responsible for his future good behavior. 

“It was an involuntary offence, your Honor, arising from 
his friendship for me.” 

“ Very well, Mi\ Hastings, he can remain on your re- 
sponsibility.” 


358 


TITE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Haw, haw ! ” laughed the culjjril, in a hoarse whisper, 
“ but, darn my butes, ef I don’t twist his lying throttle any- 
ways.” 

Although this was heard by half the court-room, no fur- 
ther notice was taken, and the trial proceeded. 

Witnesses were now put on the stand to prove the sig- 
natures attached to the deed. Children, and neighbors’ 
children, of the defunct signers — all belonging to a later 
generation, and many of them of seemingly the same age 
as the claimant — swore distinctly to the signatures of the 
registrar, the witnesses, and the Kussian himself. There 
did not seem the slightest doubt as to the genuineness of 
the instrument. 

Truly, things began to look black for the owner of the 
Hermitage and his brave daughter, who sat by her father, 
occasionally whispering to him. The cross-examination of 
these witnesses was severe and relentless, but failed to affect 
their testimony as to the genuineness of the signatures. 
AVitnesses now came forward to identify the plaintiff. 
After fifty years’ absence this was, of course, not an easy 
thing to accomplish, and the friends of the defendant were 
correspondingly hopeful. But these people — persons well 
known in the neighborhood, and two from a distance, six in 
all — swore as positively to the identity of the claimant as 
others had to the genuineness of the deed. And the evi- 
dence was more convincing because in three cases the tes- 
timony was given with evident reluctance. One, William 
Craig, a man of sixty-eight years, declared he would rather 
cut off his right, hand than be the means of depriving Mr. 
Hastings of his property. “ For, he has always been a good 
friend to me, and I wouldn’t have come here to day, only 
the law brought me, and seeing I am here, I must speak the 
truth.” 

This witness was confused somewhat by the shrewd ex- 
amination of the junior counsel for the defence, Mr. Allen, 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


359 


but held substantially to liis first statement as to how he 
knew the complainant to be Arthur Liscomb. 

‘‘I used to go to school with him, and he used some 
words in a way I never heard anybody else say them, and 
then we often used to go in swimming together, and I no- 
ticed that two of his toes on the right foot was growed to- 
gether, and all of us boys noticed it, and we got to call him 
web-toed.” The witness swore that on recently meeting 
Liscomb, and thinking he recognized him, he requested 
him to pull off his right boot, which he did, “ and there was 
the web, as I remembered it Avell.” 

It is useless to give the details ; suflfice it to say that Mr. 
Hastings’ attorneys did all that men could do to disprove 
testimony and break down evidence, but although they 
brought forward witnesses on their side who testified that 
the plaintiff was not and could not be Arthur Liscomb, yet 
they did not hold out consistently in the fiery cross-ex- 
amination to which sapient Anthony Ferns subjected them. 
So true is it, that a strong affirmation will always carry 
more weight with the mass than an equally positive denial. 
The affirmation gets possession of the mind, and “ posses- 
sion is nine points of the law.” This is shown in the his- 
tory of civil and religious life. How false customs and be- 
liefs which were instituted with strong affirmative authority 
have held their way ! No matter how disproved by fact or 
reason, or both, the false impression holds possession of the 
mind, and nothing but a mental or moral earthquake will 
suffice to uproot it. So all efforts of counsel on the present 
occasion failed to dislodge the conviction from the minds 
of the majority present that the plaintiff was the man he 
claimed to be. The improbability of witnesses being able 
to recognize anyone not a relative from them owm family 
circle, or who had not been associated with them on terms 
of close intimacy, after a lapse of over half a century, was 
earnestly dwelt upon and had due weight with the thinkers 


360 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


present, but the defendant and his counsel felt that the 
positive testimony of the witnesses for the prosecution had 
made a powerful impressiou. upon the jury and the mass of 
the audience. The witnesses on both sides had been ex- 
amined with the exception of Mr. Hastings when the court 
closed for the day. 

St. Johns and his colleague differed somewhat as to the 
advisability of calling the proprietor of the Hermitage to 
the witness-stand at aU. One thought that certain ques- 
tions which the opposing counsel would be sure to ask, 
would elicit answers necessarily prejudicial to their case, 
owing to an awkward combination of circumstances ; 
while the other insisted that ]VIi\ Hastings’ clear statement 
of the facts, coupled wdth his well-known integrity, would 
have an excellent influence on the jury. The opinion of 
the latter, seconded as it was by the defendant’s own desire, 
prevailed, and it was settled that he be called on the first 
thing after opening court next mOming. 

Mr. Hastings wished the two attorneys to take up their 
residence at the Hermitage during the course of the trial, 
but St. Johns decided it would be better to remain at the 
hotel, for some special reasons which he had, and also, be- 
cause they would be veiy busy. 

“ Now, papa, you must not worry, for even if the worst 
comes, and we lose our dear home, we have each other, and 
if necessary, I can, I know, find something to do to help 
our income.” 

“ My dear child, you have your mother’s spirit, and are 
very comforting to me, bearing this trial and the publicity 
and annoyance so bravely. But I have faith that St. Johns 
may find some way to thwart these scoundrels yet. If I lose 
this property I shall be comparatively a poor man, for I 
have spent most of my wealth upon this place. Yet we 
shall not be so poor that you need think of what you speak 
of.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


361 


“ Indeed, father,” and her dark eyes shone in the gather- 
ing dusk, I feel anyway as if I ought* to have some defi- 
nite occupation, for I really feel more and more that no one 
is justified in living an idle life in this world, and being 
supported by the labor of others. It seems cowardly to 
me. The toilers all around, and I nothing but a receiver.” 

“ Elsie, my dear, don’t talk that way, for you lead a use- 
ful enough life, and cannot really be called an idler. Why, 
you are my housekeeper, and I am sure you visit the poor 
and help bless the lives of many.” 

“But, father, all I do is but a crumb compared to what 
some women do. Take Miss Watson ; why, she does five 
times the amount of charitable work that I do, and yet 
supports her mother, and her dead sister’s two children, 
and helps keep house into the bargain.” 

“ Miss Watson is a noble woman, Elsie, and I now see 
from whom you got your ideas. Believe me, I appreciate 
your desire to help bear your share of the sad burden of the 
world, and will be glad in any way to help you in your plans 
if they seem wise. Wealth or a competency does not, in- 
deed, release any human being from the responsibilities of 
life — in fact, it rather increases them. But there is the 
dinner-bell, and you must be really hungry. I know I am.” 

About an hour after dinner ,Mr. Hastings was sum- 
moned to the library to meet a visitor, and was astonished 
on entering the room to find himself confronted by the 
redoubtable Mr. Ferns, senior counsel for his antagonist. 

“ You are surprised to see me, Mr. Hastings,” said that 
worthy, as the other bowed stiffly, after his momentary 
amazement at this bearding the lion in his den. “But, be- 
lieve me, I am here as a friend, and altogether in your in- 
terest.” 

“ I am ready to hear anything you have to say to me,” 
responded the other, calmly, motioning his visitor to a seat. 

“ I come, Mr. Hastings, to open negotiations with you 


862 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


on behalf of my client, looking to an amicable settlement 
of this most unpleasant affair.” 

“ Keally, I must decline to entertain any proposition 
whatsoever from the man who, I beheve, under a false pre- 
tence, is tiying to rob me of my property,” returned the 
proprietor of the mansion, firmly. “ So if that is the 
meaning of your presence here I presume that our inter- 
view is at an end.” 

“Pardon me, Mr. Hastings. I am well aware of the 
feelings with which you naturally regard us, and I do not 
blame you under the peculiar circumstances. But please 
to remember that I am only a professional man doing my 
duty on behalf of my client, and you surely cannot blame 
me for that. Besides, Mr. St.Johns assured me not an 
hour since that you would give me a hearing on this ques- 
tion, as it is merely to make a proposition, which you are, 
of course, at liberty to accept or reject, as you see fit.” 

“Very well,” said the gentleman, after a momentary 
struggle with himself, “ as you have taken the trouble to 
seek me here, I suppose you are at least entitled to the 
courtesy of a hearing. Pray proceed, and be as brief as 
possible, as my daughter awaits me.” 

“Thank you. Now to business. You must be aware 
that the trial is virtually over, and the probabilities largely 
in favor of my client. Forgive me for speaking so bluntly,” 
seeing that his hearer evinced some irritation, “ but as a 
lav^er, who has had an extensive practice, taking all objec- 
tive and subjective matters into consideration, I think I am 
, justified in saying that nothing short of a mii'acle could 
prevent a verdict in our favor.” 

“I really do not see justification for such a statement. 
Surely it is not a usual thing for an interested lawyer to 
express himself so positively regarding a cause which has 
not as yet reached the jury,” said Mr. Hastings, sarcasti- 
cally. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


363 


The other moved a little nervously at this retort, and re- 
plied, ‘‘ No, not usual perhaps, but frequently done when 
we know our jury and have such evidence to support us. 
But to come to the gist of the matter, let me say that my 
esteemed client, IVIi*. Arthur Liscomb, feeling the very deep- 
est commiseration and sympathy for you and Miss Hast- 
ings ” 

“ Stop ! ” said the master of the mansion in a loud voice, 
starting from his chair, “don’t you dare to refer to my 
daughter in any such way. We neither of us ask either 
commiseration or sympathy from Mr. Arthur Liscomb, as 
you term him. Just finish what you have to say and end 
this interview as speedily as possible.” 

“ Oh, certainly, certainly. I meant no otfence,” said the 
attorney, blandly, who also had arisen and retreated a step, 
so vehement had been the manner of the other. “I merely 
desired to say that Mr. Liscomb offers to compromise this 
matter by giving up all claim to the estate on condition 
that you will simply pay to him in cash the $20,000 which 
his father paid for it fifty years since, with interest at six 
per cent, to date ; we will be satisfied with simple interest.” 

“ Keally, your generosity is astounding. No doubt you 
have accurately calculated what the interest would amount 
to in half a century ? Cool, upon my word. No, sir ; go 
back to the knave who employed you, and tell him that I 
wdll take no proposal of any kind from him. If the law 
gives him the estate, I suppose I must submit to the rob- 
bery, but I refuse to hold intercourse with thieves.” 

“ How dare you use such expressions ! Now we will 
show you our power, and will turn you into the street,” 
said the attorney, springing to his feet in a fury, and shak- 
ing his fist at the other. 

This w^as too much for Mr. Hastings, who sprang toward 
the visitor just as he passed through the door, which he had 
opened as he arose. The owner of the mansion was rap- 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


idly following the rash lawyer, with the intention of forci- 
bly ejecting him from the premises, when a hand was laid 
upon his arm, and a voice said in a low tone : “ Father ! ” 
This recalled the irate man to himself, and feeling ashamed 
of his momentary passion, he suffered his daughter to lead 
him back into the library. The hall door slammed after 
the retreating attorney, and presently his vehicle was heard 
rolhng rapidly away. “ Why, father, what were you going 
to do to that man ? Wasn’t it one of those lawyers we saw 
to-day in court — the one who made the first speech ? ” 

“Yes,” replied her father, walking up and down the 
room as if to regain his self-command ; “ yes, it was the 
fellow they call Ferns.” Then, laughing heartily, “ With 
regard to your other question, as to what I was going to do 
to him, I can hardly say. I suppose I meant to kick him 
into the street, if I had caught him.” 

“But what brought him here to-night, father — was it 
about the trial ? ” 

“Elsie, he came to offer to compromise the matter, to 
offer me my own property, if I would agree to pay {^20,000 
and the interest on it for fifty years, all cash down — some- 
thing in the neighborhood of $100,000. What do you 
think of that for cool insolence ? ” 

“Why, surely the property is not worth so much as 
that ! ” exclaimed Elsie in alarm at the audacity of the pro- 
posal. 

“It would probably bring sixty or seventy thousand at a 
forced sale, but I would not part with it for even a hundred 
thousand,” said her father. 

However, the episode, now it was past, was a source of 
considerable amusement to both father and daughter, sad 
as they felt otherwise about their home. 

“I really feel ashamed of myself, showing so much 
passion before that pettifogging scoundrel, but I lost my 
control before I knew it. It shows we never quite conquer 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


365 


ourselves. I have not been in such a temper for at least 
fifteen years, but in early life I was very passionate.” 

“I never remember seeing you look so angry, papa, be- 
fore ; why, you looked quite savage.” 

“It is going back to the savage condition again to lose 
control of one’s temper, my dear. But it is all over now, 
and I must try to keep free for another fifteen years. But 
it is time for retiring, as to-morrow promises to be an 
anxious day for us all.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 


IN DEEP WATERS. 

At least an hour before court formally opened every seat 
was occupied, for the interest had become intensified in 
view of the examination of Mr. Hastings on the second 
morning of the trial. The busy tongues of the audience 
kept things pretty lively before the opening of court, and 
varied indeed were the opinions exchanged. The age and 
apparent feebleness and poverty of the plaintiff had en- 
listed much sympathy, which was enhanced by the fact 
that, being a stranger, at least to the present generation, 
nothing was known against him. On the other hand, the 
defendant was reputed a rich man, and who had frequently 
come into confiict with the baser and less scrupulous ele- 
ments of the community. 

“Squire’s gone up this time. I’m afeard,” remarked a 
farmer to Hiram as that worthy brushed against him en- 
tering the court-room. 

The “ Giraffe” shut one eye sententiously, regardiug the 
speaker comically with the remaining optic. 

“ Naow don’t you be riled ’bout the squire, friend James, 
cos the squire’s got lots of friends yet, an’ purty good ones 
too, that’ll see him through all right.” 

“Yaas, but yer can’t go ag’in’ evidence, Hiram, an’ the 
evidence’s clean t’other way. As I says to Bessie, this very 
morning, ‘ Evidence is evidence, an’, dum me, but the Lis- 
comb old man’s got it. He’s the old man’s son sure’s 
yer born.’ ‘Yes,’ says she, kind o’ sharp like, ‘ an’ he’s the 
old man hisself, an’ the son of his father, an’ that father’s 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


367 


name’s just Thomas Liscomb. You can bet your bottom 
dollar on that.’ Them’s jest the words Bess said, an’ wom- 
en knows ’bout sich matters mor’n most men ; leastwise 
that’s my ’speariance.” 

The trapper laughed good-humoredly without answer- 
ing, as he pushed forward to the front. After court was 
formally opened, IVIi*. Hastings was called to testify on his 
own behalf. He briefly, in answer to questions by his 
counsel, told how and when he became the possessor of 
the Hermitage, some twenty-seven years before. 

received my deed from IVIr. Whitely, and it was prop- 
erly registered in the registrar’s office.” 

“ Did Mr. Whitely show you his deed from the Eussian, 
Nicholas Kuprianoff, the original proprietor ? ” asked St. 
Johns. 

“Yes, and 'at my request gave it to me, as of course he 
had no further use for it,” replied the witness. 

A number of other questions brought out clearly, that the 
present incumbent of the Hermitage had come into posses- 
sion of the property by honest purchase and had held un- 
disputed and peaceable occupancy for twenty-seven years. 
The first question asked by Anthony Ferns, whose small 
ej'es snapped maliciously, as he glared at the man who had 
so insulted him the night before, was : “ Have you at pres- 
ent in your possession any deed for this property of which 
you claim to be the lawful owner ? ” 

The tone and manner were so insulting that the witness 
at first was inclined to refuse answering, and glanced at 
St. Johns, who immediately rose and protested against con- 
suming valuable time by irrelevant questions. “ The wit- 
ness has sworn to having received a deed for the property 
from Mr. Whitely, and I must request the court to protect 
us against insolent and useless questions.” 

“ Your honor, the question is neither irrelevant nor use- 
less, for we refuse to accept the defendant’s statement, even 


368 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


on oath, with regal’d to his having a legal deed to this prop- 
erty. We all know that men have frequently held posses- 
sion unquestioned for a longer period than twenty-seven 
years, when in reality they had no more legal right to the 
property involved than the veriest pauper on the highway. 
We ask your honor to compel the witness to answer this vital 
question, which, all must allow, the evident unwillingness of 
the other side to answer, affords grave grounds for suspicion.” 

“Forbear your inferences, Mr. Ferns,” said the judge, 
severely ; “ the question is a proper one, and the witness 
will please answer.” 

Very significant were the glances exchanged on all sides 
during this wrangle, and the impression left was not favor- 
able to the defence. Mr. Hastings spoke slowly and dis- 
tinctly, fixing his eyes calmly upon the satisfied face of the 
cross-examiner. 

“ The reason I hesitated, your honor,” glancing toward 
the judge, “ was the evident malice with which the ques- 
tion was put, and considering that the questioner barely 
escaped deserved chastisement at my hands a few hours 
since, for an insolent proposal to compromise this case.” 

The witness was not allowed to conclude this statement 
without interruption, for both lawyers for the plaintiff loudly 
protested against the introduction of irrelevant matter ; but 
the speaker never faltered until the final word which put 
the jury and audience in possession of a fact which cer- 
tainly added new zest to the trial, even if it did not help 
either side. 

“Mr. Hastings, answer the question directly, without 
circumlocution,” said the judge. 

“I ask you again,” said Ferns, imperatively, his flushed 
cheek showing his annoyance, “ have you in your posses- 
sion any deed to the property — Yes or No ? ” 

“ I have not the deed referred to at preseiit in my posses^ 
sion. It was stolen from me,” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


369 


‘‘We want none of your theories to account for the non- 
possession of what a few moments ago you swore you had. 
The jury will note that the witness acknowledges that he 
has no deed for this property. Is in fact merely a squatter 
upon it.” 

“Again I will ask the court to protect the witness from 
insult,” said St. Johns, springing to his feet. 

“ Have you any other questions to ask the witness ? ” 
said the judge, frovming at the cross-examiner. “If not, 
he may retire.” 

“ A moment, your honor. Mr. Hastings, you said a few 
moments since, that the original deed made by Nicholas 
Kuprianoff was given to you by Mr. Whitely. Can you 
produce that ? ” 

“ I object to these unnecessary questions which have no 
bearing whatsoever upon the case,” said the senior attorney 
for the defence. 

The judge ruled against this question, on which Ferns 
noted an exception, exclaiming tartly, “ I hope the jury 
■will note this. We asked the question because we are 
morally certain the defendent has no such deed, for it 
would be in their own interest to produce it, as going to 
corroborate the story of the purchase from IVIi*. Whitely.” 

The witness was then questioned further by St. Johns and 
testified as to the robbery, first of the desk and then of 
the house, claiming that the deeds were abstracted on one 
of those occasions. St. Johns himself then entered the 
witness-box and testified as to his personal knowledge of 
the first robbery, and the claim that Mr. Hastings made, 
on examining his rifled desk, that he had lost some im- 
portant papers. 

]VIi\ Laycock strenuously objected to hearsay testimony, 
and it was stricken out by order of the court. 

As the prosecution had pooh-poohed the story of the 
robbery, St. Johns determined to put it beyond cavil, and 
24 


370 


THE KUSSIAN HEEUGEE. 


SO called several witnesses to tlie stand, and lastly sum- 
moned Hii’am to go up and testify. Great astonishment 
was evinced in the crowded room as the gaunt form of the 
tall trapper appeared in the witness-box, gazing down be- 
nignly from his elevated vantage ground upon the sea of 
human faces below. Someone said he resembled a tall 
pine-tree that had been stripped by a storm and then 
struck by lightning. 

“ You swear to tell the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth,” said the clerk, in his dry, official tone. 

“You bet yer butes,” answered the witness, looking 
down on him with what was intended to be a smile of en- 
couragement ; “ durn me ef I don’t, pardner,” he continued, 
but utterly ignoring the book which the other was impa- 
tiently holding up for him to kiss. 

“ Kiss the book, then,” peremptorily demanded the of- 
ficial. 

Hiram opened his eyes as if amazed at such a request. 

“Kiss thet ; noa, noa, stranger, not ef this critter knows 
itself. Ha, ha ! why, pardner, ef I kissed thet black things 
thar, Gretchen ’d not let me kiss her agin in a month o’ 
Sundays, ha, ha ! ” 

Even the severe judge could not resist the infection of 
the laugh which circled round at this most unlooked-for 
argument against yielding to this stupid legal form. 

“ My friend,” said the judge, kindly, “ that book is the 
Bible, and you are merely required to touch it with your 
lips as a legal form.” 

“ Haw, haw ! An do yer tell me, jedge, thet black thing’s 
a Bible? Durn me ef I didn’t s’pose it wuz a plug o’ 
’baccy, an mighty onclean at thet.” So saying, the witness 
took the volume from the clerk, and after making a grimace 
that set the spectators in a roar, gingerly pressed it to his 
lips, and then dehberately proceeded to wipe his mouth 
with a huge yellow and red bandanna which he produced 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


371 


from one of his capacious pockets. Hiram was merely 
called to identify a paper which he found on the road near 
the Hermitage, on the morning of the robbery. Ee turn- 
ing home about three o’clock a.m. he had, when near ]VIi\ 
Hastings’ gate, been passed rapidly by a gig with two men 
in it, and immediately after found the paper referred to, 
which Mr. Hastings recognized as having been in the same 
drawer where he had kept the deeds. Owing to Mr. St. 
Johns’ advice, the fact of the robbery or robberies had not 
been made public, and were known to but few, but now 
that the non-production of the deeds was likely to militate 
against the defendant, it was deemed necessary to show 
what had become of them, and why they could not be pro- 
duced. Also this was of more importance since all evi- 
dence of the registration of the purchase had been de- 
stroyed by the burning of the court house, in which the 
books of registration had been kept. After the witnesses 
were all called, a recess was taken by the court, it being 
generally understood that on reassembling, the lawyers 
were to make their pleas, and then if they did not consume 
too much time, the case would go to the jury that night. 

During the recess Elsie left her father’s side, and after 
some little trouble succeeded in making her way to IMr. 
St. Johns’ desk. He smiled as she approached, and gave 
her a seat beside him. They were alone within the bar, 
the other legal lights having gone out for a brief lunch or 
breathing spell, as the case might be. St. Johns having to 
prepare some brief notes had decided not to leave the 
court room. He looked worn and anxious as if he had not 
slept much the previous night. Still he spoke cheerfully 
and tried to cheer her spirits, which were depressed 
enough. Conscientious lawyers and physicians are the 
real vicarious sufferers. For the time being they identify 
themselves with the client or patient, suffer as he suffers, 
and rejoice as he rejoices. Thus they are constantly living 


372 


THE EUSSIAN KEEUGEE. 


a dual nature, and the familiar “ we ” in the legal man’s ad- 
dress is more of a reality than many suppose. St. Johns 
was worried about the case, and Elsie saw it at once. 

“Now, Mr. St. Johns, I have a great favor to ask, and I 
want you to promise to grant it.” 

“ Of course I will grant it, my dear child, if I can prop- 
erly do so,” he answered, a little hesitatingly, as if he half 
anticipated the question. 

“ Thank you so much. I would not dare to ask it only 
you are such an old friend. Now, please tell me candidly, 
is there any chance, as things now stand, of our winning 
this case and saving the property ? ” 

“I will confess things look a little dark for us, but no 
one can tell what a jury will do.” 

“Do answer me frankly, Mr. St. Johns, as a friend. 
Don’t you think the case will go against us ? I will not tell 
anyone ; it is between us two. I have a reason for the 
question.” 

There was no resisting the pleading eyes, so after a mo- 
mentary pause he said in a half whisper : “With that jury 
I’m afraid there is not much chance. In spite of all our 
efforts Ferns has succeeded in packing the jury-box to suit 
himself, as he knew the men better than we did. Of 
course, we may win the case, and at any rate we shall appeal 
if it goes against us. But if you can think of anything in 
the shape of evidence that may help us, my dear Elsie, let 
us have it, and speedily, for matters are pretty close with 
us.” 

“Thank you, for speaking so frankly,” she said, rising 
to go. 

“ Mind, not a word of this to anybody,” he warned her, 
as she quietly glided away from him. “ Wonder what the 
young woman is up to this time ? ” he said to himself, as 
he watched her seek out the “ Giraffe ” and pass out of the 
court-room in earnest conversation with the trapper. He 


TIIP] RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


B73 


was half vexed with himself for having been betrayed into 
an admission of the almost hopelessness of the case, but 
something in her manner suggested that she intended tak- 
ing some steps based upon his information, and so he had 
spoken more freely than he purposed, thinking possibly 
she might know someone who could cast light on the dark- 
ness which at present shrouded the defence. 

“ You will give him this note, Hiram, and bring me an 
answer as soon as possible.” 

The note which Elsie put into the trapper’s willing hand 
ran as follows : 

Dear Friend : You said to me on parting last time, “ If things 
seem to be going wrong let me know at once.” I cannot leave my 
father alone, or I would try and go to you, hut I send this by our 
ever faithful friend Hiram. Yes, things are going, I fear, very 
wrong, and the trial certainly is going against us. If you can sug- 
gest anything let me know soon, please, by Hiram. 

Your ever loving daughter, 

■ Elsie Hastings. 

Dum me butes, Elsie ” — Hiram always called her Elsie 
when alone with her, and he was much excited, having 
known her from babyhood ; but before others it was always 
“ Miss Elsie ” — “ ef I doan’t fotch yer the word from the 
old one ’fore court’s out why jest say Hiram’s an all-fired 
snake thet ain’t good’s his word ; thet’s so.” So saying 
the sinewy, lithe mountaineer started off at a pace that 
promised a speedy termination to his journey. 

On the reopening of court the senior counsel for the 
plaintiff began his address, and a very masterly effort it 
was, taking everything into consideration. He spoke with 
an animus which showed even more than the ordinary in- 
terest in the success of a chent. It was indeed a personal 
matter with Mr. Ferns, for he felt that he had been griev- 
ously insulted by the defendant and meant that he should 
feel the full weight of his vengeance. He reviewed the 


874 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


evidence on both sides skilfully, and was very sarcastic in 
alluding to the non-production of the deed. In short, he 
made a very powerful plea for a verdict in favor of his 
cHent, and the half-suppressed murmur of applause which 
greeted his ears as he sat down convinced him that he had 
made a favorable impression. Just as the speech was clos- 
ing a note was quietly put into Elsie’s hand by someone 
behind her, and in the friendly shadow of the post against 
which she was sitting she read as follows ; 

My Dear Child : Do not allow your lawyer to make his address 
to-day. You will hear from me about eleven o’clock tonight. 

Your loving friend, 

The Exile. 

There was still plenty of time for a moderate speech, and 
if all were willing a possibility of getting the case into the 
jury’s hands before dusk, but as St. Johns rose to com- 
mence his address a note reached him, which seemed to 
change his intention, and he announced that as his speech 
would probably be lengthy, he did not wish to enter on it 
at that late hour, and proposed a postponement until the 
following morning. This was bitterly opposed by Ferns, 
who justly feared that the effect of his address might 
have somewhat passed from the minds of the jury by the 
morning. He claimed that there was abundance of time, 
and urged warmly that the trial should proceed. Under 
ordinary circumstances St. Johns would have preferred 
going on with the trial, but he did not think of doing it 
after Elsie’s note reached him, in which she asked as a spe- 
cial favor that he should not speak that night. So the judge 
finally agreed to occupy the remainder of the afternoon 
with some minor business, and the case of Liscomb vs. 
Hastings was postponed until the following morning. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


AN ORDEAL. 

When Elsie reached home with her father she saw a 
handsome vehicle, drawn by a stylish-looking black horse, 
enter the avenue leading to the house, and quickly recog- 
nized her cousin Esmond as the driver. She at once went 
out to greet him, and found, to her surprise, that he had 
come expressly to take her out for a good drive. 

“We have seen very little of each other lately, Elsie,” he 
said, “ and you are looking quite pale, with this miserable 
court-business, and not taking your usual out-door exer- 
cise.” 

She felt this to be true, and as there was three hours 
before dinner, she decided to accept the invitation if her 
father was willing. 

“ Certainly, my child ; you ought to be out more, but you 
must tell me when you come back how you influenced St. 
Johns so as to have that case postponed until to-morrow 
morning. AVhy, he told me he intended to have the thing 
before the jury to-night. But to-night, or to-morrow, it 
won’t make much difference, I fear, in the issue of the trial. 
I can see the jury have about made up their minds. Why, 
when that scoundrelly lawyer was making sport of my in- 
ability to produce the deed, did you notice how they all 
smiled?” 

Elsie had noticed it, but she said some cheering words, 
and joined her cousin, who was pacing up and down im- 
patiently on the platform. 

‘•'My uncle will make you as gloomy as himself if you let 


376 


TITE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


this thing occupy your attention so, Elsie,” he said, with 
some asperity, as they drove away. 

“ Why, Harry, how can you call father gloomy. He is 
one of the most cheerful of men generally, and if he feels a 
little sad just now, I am sure it is natural when people are 
trying to rob him of his property.” 

“ He’ll have plenty left if he does lose this. He will not 
be a poor man then by any means.” 

“ Perhaps not poor, but it will cramp him dreadfully, and 
then to think of losing our home so ; ” and here a bright 
tear in spite of herself rolled down her cheek. This seemed 
to touch him keenly, and his petulance at once disappeared 
and his tone became sympathetic and even tender. 

“ Elsie, I’m going to try and help you in this matter, for 
I think more of you than I do of anyone else in the world. 
I can never forget your kindness to me as a boy. Your 
memory has been with me in all my wanderings, and take 
it all in all, my cousin, you are the best woman I ever 
knew.” 

She opened her eyes very wide at this speech, and colored 
with pleasure, as she answered : “ Harry, I have suffered a 
great deal of anxiety on your account — more than I can tell 
— and when you went away from home to that far-off Aus- 
tralia, leaving us under a cloud as you did, I never forgot 
you for a day until you returned. And now I do hope you 
are going to settle down and become a good, useful man.” 

, “ That is just what I want to do, and I want you to help 
me. If you will help me, I have no fears of the future.” 
The steel bright eyes fixed themselves on her face as if they 
would magnetize her, and indeed she did feel his strong in- 
fluence over her at the moment, coupled at the same time 
with a feeling of distrust which she could not explain to 
herself. It was as if she felt that her cousin was playing a 
part and rather overdoing it. “ Elsie, it is no use denying 
it, you have been the guardian angel of my life from boy- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


377 


hood up, and bad as I may have been I should have been 
infinitely worse if it had not been for your influence.” 

It was a delightful afternoon, and the late September air 
was crisp and tonic, having neither the lethargic heat of 
summer, nor yet the depressing cold of winter ; calling 
neither for zephyr raiment to do mere eye-service, nor for 
the oppressive garments which a Httle later would be in 
active requisition. It was pleasant enough to allow these 
two to permit the steed to take his own gait, and trot or 
walk as seemed to him most fitting, while they abandoned 
themselves to earnest conversation. Elsie enjoyed the trip 
much, for the close atmosphere of the court-room had af- 
fected her most unpleasantly, and the air now felt as the 
breezes from Mount Hygeia itself. But her cousin’s man- 
ner annoyed her, and she could not resist -the impression 
that something unpleasant was going to happen. 

“ Elsie,” he said, suddenly looking up after a short pause 
in the conversation, “ I had a particular object in asking 
you to ride this afternoon. Can you guess it, coz ? ” 

“ Why, no, Hariy ; you have such a fertile brain that I 
should need the gift of second sight to be able to follow 
its mazy wanderings.” 

He suddenly flung the reins over the dashboard, and, 
turning round, took her right hand in his, 

“ Elsie, I want to ask you to be my wife.” 

Absolutely petrified with astonishment she sat immova- 
ble, gazing at him, and quite unconscious that he held her 
hand. At length she found words, and taking her hand 
quickly away from his, exclaimed in tones which fairly 
quivered with amazement, “ Harry Esmond, what on earth 
do you mean ? ” 

Not at all disconcerted, as if her astonishment had been 
at least partly looked for, he answered, slowly and dehber- 
ately : “Just what I said, Elsie. I ask you— yes more, I 
beg of you — to be my wife. You are the only being I really 


378 


THE KUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


love on earth. Marry me and you can make me what you 
will Now, Elsie, you surely love me enough to marry 
me ? You can save me, and make a new man of me.” 

“Please don’t say any more on this subject, Harry. I 
cannot think what can have possessed you to talk in this 
way. Why, remember we are first cousins, and brought up 
together like brother and sister. I could as soon think of 
marrying my brother.” 

He listened jpatiently to her statements, but returned 
steadily to the charge, meeting all her arguments and ob- 
jections in a manner which showed her that he had thor- 
oughly prepared himself for the interview, and had thought 
carefully over all the points of objection she would likely 
bring forward. At last, somewhat irritated by his perti- 
nacity, she exclaimed : “ Why, Poland St. Johns proposed 
to me last summer at your suggestion, and you know you 
promised to aid him in his suit in every way you could. 
You can’t deny it, Harry,” and she regarded him indig- 
nantly. 

It was now his turn to look surprised and annoyed. A 
sort of smothered oath escaped him as he blurted out 
angrily ; “ Who told you that ?• Has he dared ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” she said, quickly, “he has not betrayed your 
confidence. I heard it from another source, which I know 
is reliable.” 

He seemed relieved, and his usual audacity returned, as 
he answered with assumed carelessness : “ Since you know 
so well, I may as well confess that I did support Roland’s 
suit with you, but I did it for a blind, as I saw he was 
madly in love with you. You don’t suppose, Elsie, that I 
ever seriously contemplated your marrying that weak- 
headed fool?” 

“ Harry Esmond ! ” she said, indignantly, and even his 
hardihood quailed somewhat before the contempt he saw 
plainly speaking from her eyes. “I will not hear such 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


379 


language about one whose intimate friend you have pre- 
tended to be so long. This is playing the traitor in 
earnest. Yet,” she added, sarcastically, “you seem to 
think that a traitor to his friends could make a good hus- 
band.” 

He flushed angrily and bit his nether lip until the 
blood showed. Seizing the reins he drove furiously along 
for a mile or so without saying a word, but conscious that 
he had lost the first move of his game. At length he 
slackened the animal to a walk, and half smiling, turned 
toward his cousin, who had not yet quite overcome her 
natural resentment at his treachery toward her friend 
Koland. 

“ Elsie, forgive me. I am a queer fellow, I know, and 
you are an angel in comparison. I 'did treat St. Johns 
shabbily, and I own it. But it was my affection for you 
that impelled me to do it. He pleaded with me so 
strongly that I had to agree to help him, and then after- 
ward I found out that I loved you too w'ell to allow anyone 
else to win you. You will forgive me, won’t you ? ” 

She could not find it in her nature to be obdurate with 
such pleading — which of her sex could ? and so she an- 
swered, “ It was unworthy of you, but let us try and for- 
get it, and say no more on this subject at all. Yes, prom- 
ise me that you will never recur to this matter again. You 
must, if we are to be friends.” She spoke decidedly, and 
he moved about uneasily, flicking the flies off the horse’s 
back with the whip. 

“ Elsie, I cannot make such a promise ; I must speak 
about it. More depends upon it than you think.” 

“ Depends on what ? will you be good enough to ex- 
plain yourself ? ” she responded, coldly, showing by her 
whole manner how exceedingly annoyed she was. 

“I will do so,” he said, almost nervously, as if doubtful 
of the reception his statement might receive. “Well, 


380 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


then, according to all I can learn, this Arthur Liscomb 
will win his suit, and your father will lose the Hermitage.” 
She made no sign, and he proceeded. “ Now, I am ac- 
quainted with the man, knew him in Australia, and be- 
friended him there, having at different times lent him 
large sums of money, which he has never been able to re- 
turn.” A dreadful suspicion crossed her mind. 

“ Surely, you, Harry Esmond, did not ” 

“ Oh, no,” he said, anticipating her words ; "‘how could 
you think so ? I urged him all I could to try to effect a 
settlement, but never to bring it into court. Trust me, I 
sympathize with my uncle in this matter only less than you 
do. But what I was going to say was this. Arthur Lis- 
comb owes me so much money that he is practically in 
my power, and I can insist on his dropping the suit at 
once if I choose. At least he will do so if I will give him 
a quit claim for what he is indebted to me. I cannot bear 
the Hermitage to pass out of the family. My uncle is 
advanced in life, it would be almost death to him to lose 
his property. It remains for you to say the words, and he 
remains undisputed proprietor for life, and nobody but 
you and I will be the wiser.” 

“And the price I am to pay for such a sacrifice on your 
part ? ” she demanded, with whitened lips, and a singular 
hardness of voice. 

“ Be my wife, Elsie, and you will save your father’s hap- 
piness, your childhood’s home, and secure a devoted hus- 
band,” he said, with a pathos and tenderness which she 
hardly thought he was capable of. 

She sat still as death, and then the paleness left her face, 
and the tightness relaxed around her heart, and the red 
blood suffused her features and coursed wildly through her 
brain. She knew the Hermitage was slowly but surely slip- 
ping from their grasp ; her father’s ang*uished face came be- 
fore her, as it seemed, mutely asking her for some way of 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


381 


escape — and then the home of her childhood, and youth, 
and womanhood so far. Why, every stone on it seemed to 
grow in value, every flower to take on an added lustre. 
The dear old home to go into the hands of strangers ! 
Then this way of escape. This cousin Hany, whom she cer- 
tainly loved in a way with a sisterly afiection, she could 
learn to love him as a wife, she supposed, but the thought 
was strange yet. It did not seem such a severe penalty 
after all, although she shrunk from the thought with such 
horror when he fii’st broached the topic. But suddenly a 
face came before her, a face of wonderful repose and dig- 
nity and intelligence, and the deep-brown eyes seemed to 
look into her inmost being, and then her whole nature 
revolted against this plotting, scheming, selfish cousin who 
by contrast seemed so low in his instincts and purposes. 
Until she thought of the face, the man beside her seemed 
fairly lovable, as men go, but now she felt how different 
he was, and how impossible what he sought. And all at 
once she thought of the words, “If things seem going 
wrong let me know at once,” and the answer to her mes- 
sage as received from the Patriarch some three hours be- 
fore. 

“ Take me home, Hai’ry, it is turning cold. I wiU give 
you an answer to-morrow morning.” 

“ Better to-night, Elsie, so that the trial need go no far- 
ther. Kemember if Liscomb wins, the place will be imme- 
diately sold, as he is heavily in debt to others as well as to 
me, though I am his principal creditor.” 

As they sped rapidly homeward, he said : “ Promise me, 
not a word to my uncle, Elsie. You can see the reason for 
this ! ” 

She had refused to give him an answer to his proposal 
until the morning, but willingly agreed not to mention the 
matter to her father while it was pending ; “ and never,” she 
added, “ unless advisable,” 


382 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


She proceeded at once to the dining-room, habited as 
she was, rather than keep the dinner waiting by a special 
toilet. 

You look all the better for your ride, my dear, and 
have more color than you have had for a week. Is not 
your cousin coming in to dinner? ” 

“No, father, not to-day ; he had some urgent business, 
connected with the bank, to transact to-night.” 

The meal passed quietly, and Mr. Hastings retired early, 
and advised his daughter to do the same ; but she said she 
would read awhile before retiring. She was sitting in the 
library, trying to read, but in reality thinking of the tangle 
which had come into the hitherto rather even threads of 
her skein of life, when, just as the mantle-clock struck 
eleven, a light tap came at the window. 

“Ah, Hiram,” she said, as she opened the frame to greet 
the trapper, and receive from him the expected note from 
the Exile, and at once started back, as she heard a mellow 
voice say quietly : 

“Maya friend enter at this unseasonable hour?” and, 
without pausing for reply, Adolph stepped into the room. 

Blushing with surprise and pleasure, she clasped his 
eagerly offered hand, saying : “ I thought it was Hiram, and 
certainly never dreamed of so soon having the pleasure of 
welcoming you to the Hermitage. Father would be so 
pleased, I really think I ought to tell him you are here.” 

“Not on any account, as I suppose he has retired. I 
came to see you,” he’ added naively, looking the satisfaction 
he felt at finding her alone. “ I bear a letter from my 
father — ” handing it to her as he spoke. “ Please ignore 
my presence while you read it.” 

She at once opened it, and read as follows : 

Dearest Child : To-morrow morning, there will be, at my in- 
stance, another witness in the court-room. Whether he can do your 
cause any special service at this critical stage, I am unable to say, 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


383 


but think he can at least shed some light on one or two points which 
at present are obscure. Ask Mr. St. Johns to call for the new wit- 
ness when he is ready. Ever your friend, 

The Exile. 

“ A short note, as you see ; but a volume would not ex- 
press the deep sympathy your aged friend feels for you and 
your respected father in this trying crisis. The evidence, I 
am Sony to say, appears to be against you, and is seemingly 
without flaw ; but still you must not lose heart, for I think 
the new witness, who is an old acquaintance of father’s, can 
do somethmg to establish your father’s perfect integrity in 
the matter, which in any case will be a satisfaction — not,” 
he added, as if doubtful whether he had chosen the right 
words — “not that any one doubted that for a moment who 
knows Mr. Hastings, but I mean the public, who do not 
know him, and might be prejudiced by what that evil- 
minded attorney says.” 

“ Yes,” she said, as if to herself, “ that would be much ; 
for I would not have my dear father’s fair name tarnished 
even by a breath of a doubt, knowing him to be the very 
soul of honor.” 

She spoke strongly and with flashing eyes, and head up- 
right ; and the visitor’s face glowed with admiration, as he 
said : “ Good ! and you are his daughter, and your words are 
heart-words, forged in the furnace of love.” 

They had been standing, these two, and Elsie had been 
totally unconscious of apparent discourtesy to the visitor ; 
but suddenly perceiving her omission, and coloring with 
vexation, she exclaimed : “ Pardon me ! How thoughtless I 
am ! Please forgive me, and sit down. IVIr. Adolph, I en- 
tirely forgot you were standing.” 

“ So did I,” he rejoined ; “ so it shows I was not suffering, 
but I dare not stay at present.” His eye suddenly caught 
sight of the shelves of books, and he uttered an exclama- 
tion of joy. “ May I look at these, please, for an instant ? 


384 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


What a great privilege and happiness to have such a 
library ! ” He seemed fairly to gloat over the well-fiDed 
shelves. 

Father wiU be more than pleased to lend you any of 
these volumes you choose. If you see any one you fancy, 
just point it out, and I shall be so glad to have you take it 
home with you.” 

He did not seem to hear her, but in an instant turned 
round without speaking, with a rapt expression of counte- 
nance such as a devotee might wear gazing at a sacred 
shrine. At length he spoke slowly, his face half smiling 
now : “I am afraid you will think me foolish and fanciful ; 
but I can hardly explain the peculiar effect the sight of 
that library had upon me. It seemed to take me back into 
a far past — into a life under somewhat different conditions ; 
and these books seemed like old friends that I had once 
known. I heard your voice as if coming from a great dis- 
tance, but could not on the instant break; the speU that 
bound me. It is very strange. I have had some sucli im- 
pressions before, but never so profoundly as to-night. I 
heard your kind offer about lending me some of these 
precious volumes; yet your voice seemed to belong to 
a totally different world. But,” he added, “ this must ap- 
pear very singular and eccentric to you. I fear I am very 
different from your other friends — other men, I mean.” 

“ I am glad you are different, Mr. Adolph. I am thankful 
when I meet with one who is willing to appear frankly, as 
he or she is, without striving to be conventional.” 

“But the books. Miss Hastings” — thanking her, with 
his eyes as he spoke, for her remark, but not otherwise no- 
ticing it then. “ What a feast you offer me ! and I will ex- 
press my gratitude by availing myself of your offer. May 
I have that, ‘ Great Thoughts of Great Thinkers,’ on this 
upper shelf ? ” She opened the glass door, and put the 
volume in his hands. 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


385 

It is a very old book— at least fifty or sixty years, I 
should judge — but a great favorite of my father’s.” 

He was already in the middle of the volume, scanning 
its contents eagerly. 

‘‘ Miss Hastings, I feel as one awakening from a long, 
dreamy night, to whom the memory of a yesterday comes 
in flashes ; but this yesterday is not part of my present 
span of years.” He roused himself, as one would from. a 
fast-gathering lethargy, and, closing the volume, held out 
his hand. “ Good-night, dear friend ; I dare not stay 
longer. This room seems to have haunting memories in it 
for me, and voices from another shore. Why it should be 
thus, I know not. One among the many other mysteries 
of this curious life, I suppose.” 

“ The first, I hope, of many visits,” she said, as she clasped 
his offered hand. “ Thank you so much for coming ; and 
your father, too— thank him for me.” 

With a deprecating smile and gesture, he passed into 
the darkness of the night ; and the young lady sat down for 
a few moments to think over some matters which thronged 
surging through the conduits of her brain, and which had 
been suggested by the interview. 

“ Strange,” she said at length, rising and lighting the 
small bed-room lamp which lay on the side-table — “ strange 
indeed, this other life, which not merely follows this, but 
possibly antedates and surrounds it.” 

Not much sleep for her that night — a sort of fitful 
half-slumber, but with the curious phases of the waking 
day interwoven in weird fashion with the grotesque fancies 
of the night. The disheartening incidents of the trial, the 
strange proposal and statements of her cousin, and then 
the peculiar experience of Adolph in the library, all con- 
tributed their quota to make a night of disturbed visions, 
25 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 

The third day of the civil suit, Liscomb versus Hastings, 
opened with a court-room crowded with eager, expectant 
people of both sexes. Though the verdict in the public 
mind was evidently made up, yet all were eager and curi- 
ous to hear what the counsel for the defence would have to 
present against such overwhelming and conclusive evi- 
dence. When the case was called, Mr. St. Johns rose slowly 
to his feet, as if to begin his speech ; but, to the utter aston- 
ishment of nearly every one present, including the defend- 
ant himself, said, hesitatingly : 

“ Your honor, I have to request, as a special act of cour- 
tesy, that you will permit me to call another witness for the 
defence, before proceeding with my address.” 

“ Preposterous ! ” almost shouted the two opposing law- 
yers. “ Your honor surely would not for a moment enter- 
tain such an extraordinary and unprecedented request,” 
said Laycocks, angrily. 

“ The counsel for the defence must be aware that he stated 
last evening that all the evidence for the defence was in ; 
and the admission of new evidence at this late stage of 
the proceedings would be, not unprecedented, Mr. Lay- 
cocks, but certainly very unusual,” said the judge : ‘‘never- 
theless, if counsel can satisfy the court that the interests of 
justice would undoubtedly be subserved by such new evi- 
dence, why, in that case, the innovation may be permitted. 
Of course, Mr. Laycocks, you will have equal liberty to offer 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 387 

rebuttal of such testimony, and to extend your address so 
as to cover the new ground.” 

Anthony Ferns, who had not been present when court 
opened, now entered, and, on being informed of the new 
move on the part of the defence, seemed almost frantic. Ad- 
dressing the court, he denounced the whole proceeding in 
no measured terms — stigmatizing it as audacious, mean, dis- 
honorable, and utterly contemptible, and urged vehemently 
that the court emphatically put the seal of disapprobation 
upon such dirty, underhand proceedings, by peremptorily 
refusing the request, and ordering the case to be continued 
in the usual manner followed in such courts. 

“What is the nature of the evidence you propose to 
bring before the jury, at this late hour, Mr. St. Johns?” 
said the judge. 

“ It is utterly impossible, your honor, for me to answer 
that question without imperilling the very interests which 
we hope the new evidence will subserve. It is rather 
strange,” he added, sarcastically, “ that the prosecution 
should be so afraid of a little new evidence, when only 
yesterday they loftily declared that they stood upon the 
granite, and challenged the world to disprove their claim.” 

“We adhere to the statement, your honor, quoted by 
the counsellor ; but, although having no fear of the new 
witness, whoever he may be, yet we do oppose this most 
unlegal-like proceeding, and the establishment of such a 
precedent in our courts, as to admit fresh testimony after 
the counsel had began pleading.” 

“Do you still press your point, Mr. St. Johns?” de- 
manded the court. 

“ Most certainly I do, your honor, and if not granted 
shall make such refusal the basis for an appeal to a higher 
court,” returned the counsel, who, although when Elsie had 
spoken at first of the new witness, he had declared it could 
not be done, and only yielded to her eager solicitations, 


388 


THE KUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


yet now excited by opposition was thoroughly aroused, and 
determined to carry his point at all hazards — not that he 
supposed the additional evidence would amount to any- 
thing, but he meant to gratify Elsie and annoy Ferns, whom 
he cordially detested, at one and the same time. So, after 
a little more wrangling, the prosecution suddenly withdrew 
their opposition, and the judge ordered the defence to 
bring on the new evidence. 

“Tm half-ashamed of this blind business, which probably 
will result in nothiog of any importance,” whispered St. 
Johns to his colleague ; “ but it’s something to make Ferns 
mad, anyhow ; ” then in a loud voice, “ The new witness for 
the defence will please to take the stand.” 

A slight movement on the left of the bar, caused by two 
or three persons standing up, a figure moving with stately 
steps toward the witness-box, though a couple of lawyers 
who had risen to change their places intercepted for a mo- 
ment the view', then Elsie almost screamed with astonish- 
ment as she saw the grave, reverend face of the Exile look- 
ing at her from the witness-stand. The venerable form, 
clad in a large blue fur-trimmed cloak of military pattern, 
appeared to singular advantage in that elevated position, 
while the countenance, framed in its wealth of snowy white 
hair and beard, had a dignity and repose which at once in- 
spired both respect and confidence. An aged man — yes, 
probably much beyond the years ordinarily attained even 
by the elders of the race, but with a firmness and erectness 
of bearing and a freshness of complexion which showed 
that his natural force was not seriously abated. Taking 
the book tendered by the clerk, the new witness touched it 
with his lips, and then thanking the judge for the courtesy 
of an offered chair, seated himself, and turned toward Mr. 
St. Johns, who had risen for the purpose of questioning 
him. 

“ What is your name, my friend ? ” inquired the lawyer*, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


389 


respectfully, satisfied that although his evidence might not 
be of much real value, yet the man before him was no or- 
dinary witness. The witness hesitated an instant, while the 
court-room was hushed into a perfect stillness, and then in 
a clear, though slightly tremulous voice, answered : 

“ Nicholas Petrovitch.” 

Curiously people scanned him from every direction, as 
with the exception of perhaps three no one had seen him 
before — a stranger, and w’hat was he doing in that witness 
box? Evidently, somebody or something was at fault. 
Just as St. Johns had risen, a slip of note-paper with a few 
words hurriedly written in pencil was put in his hand, and 
opening it his eye caught the words : “ Ask the witness if 
he knew Nicholas Kuprianoff, and make the most of his 
answer.” This was all, and the only clue he had, as to what 
the witness might possibly be able to testify to, so he now 
at once put the query : 

“Did you know Nicholas Kuprianoff?” 

“ I did,” promptly returned the witness. 

“ Were you familiar with his writing ? Would you know 
his signature if you saw it ? ” asked the counsel, a single 
ray of light beginning to penetrate the darkness. 

“Yes,” responded the venerable man, with emphasis. 

“ Your honor, we demand that this deed, on which the 
prosecution base their claim, be submitted to the witness.” 

The judge looked at the opposing counsel interrogatively ; 
but, ere he could speak. Ferns promptly responded : “ Cer- 
tainly, your honor, we are willing, although we protest 
against this whole proceeding as extremely irregular, and 
tending uselessly to protract the trial — quite willing to sub- 
mit the deed to the inspection of a thousand witnesses,- if 
necessary, without the slightest fear of the result,” at the 
same time passing the document to St. Johns. 

That gentleman, after quickly scanning it, handed it to 
the witness, who eagerly, as it seemed to the spectators, took 


390 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


it from the counsel, and at once began to read it. Pausing 
for a moment to allow the witness time to examine the in- 
strument, the lawyer proceeded : 

“Mr. Petrovitch, will you carefully look at the principal 
signature there, written Nicholas Kuprianoff, and say if it 
is really the signature of your friend.” 

The witness scrutinized it, as if he was minutely examin- 
ing each letter, while Elsie felt her head swim ; and the in- 
terest in the room grew almost to fever heat. At length, 
the voice of the witness broke the suspense, and all felt 
that he was speaking his profound conviction. 

“ It is undoubtedly the signature of Nicholas Kuprianoff.” 

It came reluctantly ; but the words, though low, were 
fearfully distinct to one at least, and struck like a rising knell 
upon her heart. St. Johns sat down suddenly, but immedi- 
ately rose again as he met the triumphant glance of Anthony 
Ferns, and heard him say, in a low, mocking tone : “Many 
thanks, St. Johns, for helping us along.” 

In sheer desperation, the counsel asked again : “ Did you 
ever see that deed before ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“When?” 

“Fifty-three years ago, when it was executed,” came 
promptly. 

Like the drowning man with the straw, the lawyer 
pushed on, asking almost at random, and yet half-afraid at 
any moment of getting out of the frying-pan into the fire. 

“ Who was present besides yom’self ? ” 

“I object,” said Ferns — “but no, go on ; you will only 
hang yourself.” 

The witness paused, as if thinking. 

“The two witnesses whose names are appended here, 
and the gentleman who bought the property.” 

“And his name was?” And the voice of the speaker 
trembled as he spoke. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


391 


The witness answered, in a voice which was heard every- 
"svhere, “ Thomas Whitely.” 

A low Imrn of astonishment went through the room, and 
the opposing counsel began to show, signs of uneasiness. 

“ Then I understand you to say that on the occasion re- 
ferred to, there were present yourself, the two witnesses 
whose names are written there, Elias Stroub and George 
Gay ling, Thomas Whitely and Nicholas Kuprianoff?” 

“ Yes,” said the witness. 

“ You swear that only these persons were present, and no 
others ? ” urged the counsel, with a barely concealed gleam 
of exultation in his eye. 

“Ido.” 

“ Once more. Is that the deed, the very instrument, 
in all its details, as you saw it on that occasion ? ” 

“ This is really growing to be farcical, your honor,” said 
Mr. Laycocks, rising hastily. “ As if any mere witness could 
be supposed to be able to. answer such a question truth- 
fully, after the lapse of over fift}’' years ! I hope your honor 
will see the necessity of closing this comedy, before it de- 
generates into a farce.” 

“ The counsel will please confine himself to essentials, 
and only put questions directly bearing on the case,” said 
the judge. 

“ I will, your honor ; and this is one of them. I repeat 
my question, ‘ I^ this deed the same in all respects as the 
one you saw executed ? ’ ” 

“ No,” said the witness, “ it is not exactly the same.” 

“In what respects does it differ from the instrument 
you saw executed ? ” 

“It is the same instrument, with the exception of the 
date and the name of the pui'chaser of the estate,” replied 
the old man, very slowly, as if he was becoming weary. 

“ The date is one year earlier, exactly, and I find here the 
name of Thomas Liscomb, instead of Thomas Whitely, 


392 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


which was the original. In short, this is the original deed 
with the exception of the date of the year, and the word 
Liscomb which are — ” and here the glistening eyes were 
turned full upon the plaintiff, who sat near, and his words 
sounded with terrible distinctness in the hush of the wait- 
ing crowd — “ are forgeries.'* 

It would be impossible to describe the sensation pro- 
duced by these simple words. The more impulsive of the 
audience rose to theii' feet, and for a moment or two every- 
thing was confusion. Elsie, whose nerves had been strung 
to the highest pitch, and sufieiing too from want of sleep, 
suddenly exclaimed : “Oh, father,” and fell back pale and 
speechless. Mr. Hastings called on someone near to open 
the window close to them ; and those around, seeing that a 
lady had fainted, hastened to move so that she could be 
carried out of doors ; but she almost immediately revived 
and insisted on keeping her seat. “ Father, I am ashamed 
of myself. I never fainted before, did I ? ” 

“No, my dear, you are not of the fainting kind” he an- 
swered ; “but hush ! St. Johns is beginning again.” 

During the little commotion caused by his words, the 
grand old man had sat in the witness box, like a very Jove 
come dowm to calm the tempestuous passions of mortals, 
and apparently rather surprised at the effect he had pro* 
duced. The deed had been held by the "witness since be- 
ing handed to him by the counsel, and it had been noticed 
that from time to time he had been carefully examining cer- 
tain parts of it with what appeared to be a magnifying 
glass, which he had taken from his pocket. The counsel 
for the prosecution had demanded the return of the instru- 
ment, after the witness had first examined it, but he so 
strenuously insisted on retaining it during his stay in the 
witness box that the judge had granted his desire. 

“You swear that to your own personal knowledge and 
belief that is the original deed executed in favor of Thomas 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


893 


Whitely by Nicholas Kuprianoff, that the signatui’es there- 
on inscribed are genuine and were written under your 
owm personal observation. But you further swear that the 
words, ‘Thomas Whitely,' wheresoever appearing in the 
document, have been erased, and the words ‘ Thomas Lis- 
comb ’ inserted instead ; and also that the year date has 
been altered in a similar way?” 

“ I do,” replied the witness, “with the exception of the 
word ThomaSy which remains the same as it appeared 
originally, and has not, so far as I can detect, been med- 
dled with.” 

“Your honor, that is all we wish to ask of this witness 
at present, but the court can easily see that, as the evidence 
just given has changed the aspect of the case considerably, 
it may be necessary to ask further testimony from this wit- 
ness, and also to call on others to strengthen his position.” 

“ I am to consider the witness so called, is then at my 
disposal,” said Anthony Ferns, rising, with a gleam of 
savage intention in his countenance, as if he would devour 
the aged man on the stand, as a wolf might rend a sheep. 
Indeed, so vindictive did the senior counsel for the plain- 
tiff look, that the Patriai’ch seemed to rather shrink from 
the encounter, and turning toward the judge said, wearily, 
and in a tone that had in it more of the tremor of age than 
noticed before. 

“May it please the court, I am much fatigued, for this 
has been a severe tax on my endurance.” 

The pleading look and truly dignified and venerable as- 
pect of the speaker seemed to make a marked impression, 
which the judge evidently shared, for he at once said : 
“You shall not be harassed, my friend. Mr. Ferns, please 
make your questioning as brief and to the point as possi- 
ble.” 

The lawyer glared angrily at the speaker, but his wrath 
was impotent, as he well knew, with Judge Temple. 


394 


THE K0SSIAN REFUGEE. 


“It is indeed hard if lam to be limited in my rights 
as counsel for the prosecution, when such unprecedented 
privileges "have been freely conceded to the opposition. 
Gentlemen of the jury, I hope you will notice and remem- 
ber the barefaced imposition which we have been forced 
to yield to this morning. The defence in their dire ex- 
tremity, in their death-struggle to maintain their hold on 
ill-gotten possessions which are fast slipping from their 
iniquitous grasp have, from nobody knows where, suborned 
this old man to come here and perjure himself in their 
interests.” 

Here the judge peremptorily rapped the desk and said : 
“ If the counsel is making his final address to the jury, and 
does not wish to ask the witness any questions, he may 
retire.” 

“I beg pardon, your honor, but the iniquity of this 
whole proceeding is so heinous and transparent, that my 
natural indignation prevailed. ” Then turning to the witness. 
“ You claim that you have seen that deed before, and were 
present at the making and signing of it ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied the witness, simply, “ I do.” 

“ Eemember you are on your oath. Do you pretend to 
swear that after fifty years you know that to be the exact 
deed you say you saw ? How do you know that this is not 
another deed like it, executed and signed a year later, as 
you say the date shows ? ” 

The old man did not seem to notice the imperious man- 
ner of the other, but, looking at his questioner with a half- 
smile on his time-wise face, replied, “ I know that the word 
Liscomb, wherever it appears in this deed, and the date of 
the year are not as originally written, and not in the hand- 
writing of Nicholas Kuprianoff.” 

“ You are so old that you have lost your memory and 
are in your dotage, old man,” said the lawyer, impatiently. 
“ Please tell the jury how you know these Avonderful things,” 


THE RUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 395 

he said with a sneer, but with a manifest uneasiness which 
could not be concealed. 

The aged witness’s eyes flashed, and he drew himself up 
with dignity, saying, “ I would not answer you, you foul- 
mouthed pettifogger, only that the interests of those infi- 
nitely superior to yourself are at stake. ” This was uttered 
in a low tone, yet so distinctly as to be heard all over the 
room. The witness then went on : “ Nicholas Kuprianoff, 
as his custom was, in filling up and signing this, deed, first 
wrote the words in with a colorless solution, which, sinking 
into the parchment, left no sign, but which, once written, 
could never be erased ; then he wrote the same words with 
common ink over.” 

“ Stop ! ” thundered the counsel, “ you are not asked to 
give your fancies here. Just answer my question. Yes or 
No.” 

“ Mr. Ferns, the witness is answering your question as 
to how he knows this to be the same deed. Proceed, Mr. 
Petrovitch. ” 

Ferns’ cheek paled and reddened by turns, and the in- 
terest of everyone present was, if possible, intensified. The 
witness continued, although with visible effort, recapitu- 
lating ill part what he had said about the writing, as if 
afraid he might be misunderstood, and then quietly saying, 
“ I am tired, and must rest for a few moments to collect my 
thoughts,” leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. 

At that moment Elsie saw a tall, manly figure making his 
way toward the witness-box ; the form appeared familiar, but 
the face was away from her ; but a feeling of pleasure thrilled 
her whole being as, presently, she saw Adolph bending ten- 
derly over his father and grasping his hand. Her first 
impulse had been to go to the Patriarch herself ; but on 
second thought she checked the impulse, remembering in 
time that it would not probably be his desire to be noticed 
by her, there. Adolph seemed to be urging his father to 


396 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


retire for a while and rest, but the old man declined, say- 
ing, so as to be beard by several, “No, no ; I would rather 
finish this at once than return again.” 

Mr. St. Johns was looking very cheerful, and feeling so, 
too, for the events of the last two hours had changed the 
entire atmosphere of the trial to him. He was busy writ- 
ing, and started when an abrupt whisper reached his ear. 
Looking up, he saw a neat, trim-looking gentleman, of me- 
dium height and a very professional air, standing beside 
him and regarding him earnestly. The conversation which 
followed was only heard by themselves, but it was noticed 
•when it ceased that the professional-looking person went 
over to that part of the room where the venerable-looking 
Arthur Liscomb was and sat down near him. 

After resting a few moments, the witness signified his 
readiness to continue his evidence. Ferns, who had been 
engaged in close conversation with his partner, now rose, 
and at once addressing the wdtness, said : “ You swore, a 
while back, that you were present when that instrument 
was prepared and signed ; if so, where is your proof of your 
presence on that occasion, since all the parties subscribing 
to the deed, and whose names appear there, have been dead 
nearly a quarter of a century? How is it,” he continued, 
triumphantly, as the witness seemed unwilling to answer 
promptly, “that if you were present and saw all these won- 
derful things, of special solutions, etc., that your name does 
not appear on that parchment as a witness ? Answer me 
that, old man ! ” 

The witness certainly did seem to shrink from answering, 
but finally, as if after an internal struggle with himself, an- 
swered, decisively, in alow tone, “ My name is on the deed.” 

“ What ! ” ejaculated the counsel, in a tone that seemed 
to shake the building, “ do you mean to tell the court that 
your name is on that instrument? Please point it out — 
some more of your precious solutions, I suppose.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


397 


My name,” was the answer, “ is on this instrument in 
black and white.” 

Amazement sat on eveiy countenance, and the majority 
of those present felt that the poor old gentleman was in his 
dotage, and ought not to be badgered in the witness-box 
any longer. This evidently was Counsellor Ferns’ opinion, 
for, turning to the judge, he exclaimed in a disgusted tone : 
“ It is too bad to waste the time of the court by bringing 
before it this doting witness ; yet, if your honor is content 
to listen to such senile ravings and drivelling nonsense, I 
will ask him a few more questions, just to show the condi- 
tion of the old man’s mind.” 

“ How dare he talk that way ! ” whispered Elsie to her 
father, indignantly. “ I wonder the judge allows it.” 

“I am afraid- the old gentleman is wandering somewhat 
in his mind, Elsie,” answered Mr. Hastings, rather sorrow- 
fully. 

‘‘ You say your name is on that deed in black and white ; 
then, of course, you have risen from the grave. Will you 
please inform the court and juiy, and these anxious legal 
gentlemen here, which of the four dead men whose names 
are affixed to that deed you are ; and also why, in coming 
back to ‘ revisit the glimpses of the moon,’ you have chosen 
to adopt the name of Nicholas Petrovitch ? ” said the coun- 
sel, banteringly, his anxiety all gone and now feeling com- 
paratively sure of his ground. 

“ I am returned from the tomb to confront a vile conspir- 
acy and foil the conspirators,” returned the aged witness, 
solemnly. 

So dignified, grave, and serious was the demeanor of the 
speaker, coupled with his advanced age, that a sort of gla- 
mour of superstition seemed to faU upon the audience as 
he spoke, and several faces visibly paled. 

“ I must really congratulate my learned brothers here on 
their spiritualistic or necromantic power, whichever it may 


398 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


be, in restoring the dead to life,” said the lawyer, bowing to 
the counsel for the defence, with an ironical smile. Then, 
turning to the witness, “ A tmce to this nonsense, my old 
friend. Which of these dead men are you? What do you say 
is your real name ? ” 

The Patriarch rose from his chair, and stepping forward 
in the hush of that crowded court-room, in a clear voice, 
which came to the ear like the trumpet-tones of fate, said, 
“ I am Nicholas Kuprianoff himself.” 

For a full minute all sat in a sort of stupefied wonder- 
ment, gazing at the ancient man, who continued standing, 
then a reaction ensued, and a great shout went up from the 
assembled crowd. It was a shout of very mixed and va- 
ried nature — astonishment, delight, ridicule, incredulity, all 
found voice in that cry, and for some moments business was 
necessarily suspended. Then, with a loud, mocking laugh. 
Ferns, who, at first, on hearing the witness’ extraordinary 
announcement, had dropped into his chair as if shot, and 
as one closely observing him said, “ as pale as a ghost,” rose 
to his feet, saying : 

“ A patriarch, indeed, to whom Methuselah is an infant ! 
Really, my ancient sir, you must be pretty well flavored with 
antiquity. Will your antiquated reverence please to inform 
the court how old you were when you claim to have executed 
that deed ? ” 

‘‘ I decline to answer,” said the witness, apparently some- 
what annoyed by the tone of the other. 

“ Your honor, we can prove that at the period referred 
to Nicholas Kuprianoff was, in popular estimation, an old 
man, and was called such by his associates, so that, in the 
very nature of things, he cannot be living at present on the 
earth, unless the days of miracles have returned.” 

“ The question is reasonable. The witness will please 
answer,” said the judge, gently looking toward the white- 
haired deponents 


V. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 399 

I was at that time sixty-seven years of age,” answered 
the witness, quietly. 

“ Then, in the Devil’s name, how old do you call yourself 
now ? ” blurted out the counsel, rudely. 

There was no mistaking the words as they fell from the 
lips of the aged speaker on the overstrained attention of 
the hearers : “ One hundred and twenty years, on my last 
birthday.” 

A derisive laugh went up from the audience, but only 
from the thoughtless ones. A minority present felt awed 
and impressed by the manner and words of this venerable 
man, who certainly bore the marks of great age, however 
improbable or impossible might his own statement be in 
reference to it. There was a whispered consultation be- 
tween the lawyers of the respective sides, and then Mr. 
Laycocks rose. 

“ I suggest, your honor, that the testimony of this last 
witness be stricken from the record, as his mental condition 
certainly precludes his evidence being accepted.” 

“By no means,” exclaimed the senior counsel on the 
other side, rising hastily. “ Although we admit that, on the 
surface, things look a little improbable, yet, considering that 
the preceding testimony of the witness has been given in 
a singularly clear and lucid manner, and that, although 
rarely, yet men have attained to as great an age, and even 
greater than that claimed by this witness — Thomas Parr, for 
instance, who, on good evidence, reached the age of one 
hundred and fifty years, and several others, even in our own 
century, who have attained ages long past the hundred — we 
insist on the evidence of this witness being received, and 
are willing to submit it to any test deemed necessary by the 
court.” 

“ It is for the plaintiff to rebut any testimony which has 
been submitted this morning, or to disprove the statements 
of the witness regarding lijs identity,” said the judge^ 


400 


THE KUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


“Do you wish to examine Ihe witness any further at 
present, Ferns ? ” asked St. Johns. 

“No ! ” shortly returned that gentleman. 

“Then I will ask a question or two. Mr. Witness, why 
did you give your name as Nicholas Petrovitch, if it was 
really Nicholas Kuprianoff ? ” said St. Johns. 

“Because my father’s name was Peter, and Petrovitch 
means the son of Peter in the Russian language ; and by 
that name I was called until I came to this country, when 
I changed it to Kuprianoff at the request of a relative who 
left me some property, and also for certain political reasons, 
which it is not necessary here to disclose.” 

“Very good. Now, you said that the solution used by 
you in writing primarily the names on that deed enabled 
you to detect the forgery. Will you please explain ? ” 

“It is very simple. I am a chemist, and through my 
- technical knowledge in this branch was able to make a 
solution which, colorless in itself, yet in contact with an- 
imal or vegetable fibre, and exposed to the sunlight for a 
short time, gives a pale-gray tint, so faint, however, that it 
may require a strong magnifying glass, such as I hold in 
my hand, to detect. It incorporates itself into the texture 
of parchment, forming chemical union with it, and is abso- 
lutely indestructible. The common ink can be easily re- 
moved over such writing, but the words written in this 
solution remain as long as the material on which it is 
written exists. Take this magnifier and judge for your- 
self.” 

St. Johns took the deed and eye-glass from the speaker, 
and proceeded with considerable curiosity to examine the 
words characterized as forged by the aged witness. 

“ Give me that instrument — that is our property, and is 
too valuable to be handed about in this way, and perhaps 
iniquitously tampered mth,” said Ferns, moving toward St. 
Johns, and attempting to take the document fro^j big hands. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


401 


“Hold ! ” said the judge ; “that document has been put 
in evidence, and introduced into this court as a witness, 
and as such can be examined and cross-examined as far as 
the court deems necessary in the interests of justice. Pro- 
ceed with your scrutiny, counsellor.” 

The baffled attorney slunk back to his seat, looking hke 
a hyena balked of its prey. "" 

“I fail to see anything but the name written here in 
black ink,” said St. Johns, at length, in a disappointed tone. 

“Hold the parchment so that the sun’s rays will fall 
directly upon the line. Then, too, I omitted to mention 
that the words written in the solution slope from left to 
right, or backhanded, as you term it.” 

“ Yes, yes — I see it now,” shouted the counsel. “ Thomas 
Whitely comes out distinctly. Why, this is indeed won- 
derful — a* miracle in the interests of justice.” Yes, there, 
under the revealing glass, came out, in a delicate gray, the 
words mentioned, and the same held good with regard to 
all the writing on the parchment, showing clearly where 
erasure and substitution had been made. “Will your 
honor please satisfy yourself of what I saw, and then allow 
the jury to see for themselves the direct evidence of the 
most audacious attempt at fraud that has ever been at- 
tempted in this or any other court ? ” 

“ Will you ? No, you don’t ! ” exclaimed a loud voice, 
and all eyes were immediately directed to the plaintiff’s 
corner of the room, whence the voice came, and there it 
was noticed that the professional-looking gentleman before 
mentioned had a firm hold on the venerable Liscomb’s 
collar, and seemed to be strenuously opposing his escape 
from the room. 

“ Mr. Sheriff, bring those two persons creating this un- 
seemly disturbance before the court.” This was accord- 
ingly done, with some difficulty, as the old man resisted vio- 
lently. “ What do you mean by arresting this man in the 
26 


402 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


coiu’t-room in this way ? Where is your authority ? ” said 
his honor, severely regarding the professional-looking per- 
son. ' ^ 

“Your honor,” said St. Johns, coming f orward,' ' “ this 
gentleman is following out my instructions, which were, in 
case the evidence seemed to justify it, to prevent any at- 
tempted escape of this man from the court room. You 
will see that this magistrate’s warrant is correct, and I think 
your honor will allow that the revelations of the last hour 
fully justify our action.” 

“You are in this warrant charged with conspiracy, 
Arthur Liscomh, and will have to remain in the custody of 
the officer until legally released.” 

Ferns and Laycock had not been by any means passive 
spectators of this scene, and blustered and threatened as to 
the revenge they would take for this outrage ; but in vain. 
The attempt of the plaintiff to escape from the room gave a 
bad color to his case, and the wily lavsryers felt this keenly. 
The judge ordered the trial to go on. 

“Now that the jury has examined this deed, and seen the 
glaring nature of the forgery, we will proceed to identify 
our witness, in order to save the other side the trouble,” 
said St. Johns. 

From a list in his hand the counsel called on four wit- 
nesses successively, old men, who swore distinctly that they 
identified the witness, although they had not seen him for 
over fifty years, and supposed him dead long ago. Their 
evidence was pointed and positive and was not practically al- 
tered by Ferns’ brow-beating questioning. The fifth witness, 
however, was a Russian, and he swore that he had known of 
Kuprianoff’s existence during all this time, and that his 
great age was an undoubted fact. Then the lawyer, by per- 
mission of the judge, asked all in the room who recognized 
the ancient man to rise to their feet, and at least a dozen 
gray-haired men, most of them looking nearly, if not quite^ 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


403 


as old as the witness, stood up promptly. It was evident 
that the prosecution had no case, and although Ferns made 
a fierce tirade to the jury, ending by threatening all sorts of 
legal reprisals, it was plain that the jury were decided. St. 
Johns simply said that he rejoiced that Divine Providence 
had spared this noble patriarch to be able to vindicate his 
own memory from the foul aspersions which had been cast 
upon it, and the infamous charge that he had fraudulently 
deeded the Hermitage twice. “ I make no speech, leaving 
the evidence with you, gentlemen, knowing that your good 
sense will give us a unanimous verdict.” 

After a short charge from the judge, the jury, through 
theu' foreman, cast their verdict in favor of the defence 
without leaving their seats. Popular opinion, which twenty- 
four hours previously had seemed to point very decidedly 
in favor of the venerable plaintiff, now had completely 
veered around, and the verdict was received with a storm of 
approval against which the dignity of the judge and the 
court- officers labored in vain. After a semblance of quiet 
was obtained, the usual forms were gone through, and court 
adjourned. Then ensued a wild commotion, resulting from 
the eager desire of the people to personally congratulate 
Mr. Hastings. All petty grievances were forgotten, and he 
was only remembered as the honest man, kind neighbor, 
and high-minded gentleman. Elsie, too, came in for a full 
share of the congratulations, for she was extremely popular, 
and many a little grudge entertained against the inflexible 
magistrate had been mollified or entirely removed by the 
kind word or smile of his daughter. For herself she had 
but one desire when court closed and she could disengage 
herself from the circle of friendly faces and clasping hands, 
and that was to seek the dear old man to whom they 
owed so much, and thank him. Her full, gi’ateful heart 
longed to disburden itself, and she felt that a touch of the 
hand from this sage of another century would be a bene- 


404 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


diction. Alas ! he had disappeared ; no one seemed to 
know how or when, but he was gone. She met St. Johns, 
who was on the same quest, apparently, for his salutation 
was : 

“How glorious! Let me congratulate you, my dear 
child. But where is that splendid specimen of ancient 
manhood ? I have not quite got over it. It seems like a 
veritable resurrection, doesn’t it? Have you seen him? 
He saved us at the eleventh hour I ” 

Just then his eye fell on the crest-fallen-looking plaintiff, 
to whom the professional-looking person was sticking like 
grim death. His counsel had deserted him, and he looked 
doleful enough. “ Ha, ha I I must attend to that rascal, and 
have him properly committed for one of the vilest conspir- 
acies ever concocted by a band of ruffians. I believe this 
old scoundrel is only the weak tool of sharper knaves, and 
if I could see my way clearly I would have those two ‘ divil’s 
limbs of the law,’ as I heard an Irishman jiist now call them, 
indicted with him as co-consj)irators, as I believe they are.” 

In a few moments the active lawyer had the satisfaction 
of seeing the late plaintiff in the civil suit of Liscomb vs. 
Hastings marched off under the guardianship of the pro- 
fessional-looking person and another detective, en route for 
Melville jaik 


CHAPTER XXXm. 


A NOCTURNAL SURPRISE. 

So the big trial was over, and the inmates of the Hermitage 
felt like taking out, as it were, a new lease of life. Their 
beautiful home, for a time in such serious jeopardy, now in 
a sense seemed more their own than ever, if that were pos- 
sible. Mr. Hastings had invited home to dinner a number 
of friends, so a sort of jubilee party had been held in the 
hospitable mansion on the evening of the trial, and a very 
dehghtful gathering it was. The theme ' of all was the 
wonderful old man, and much curiosity was manifested to 
know where he had been living all these long years. The 
host and his daughter had to skilfully fence many direct 
questions from those who suspected that his existence and 
whereabouts had been all the time known to them. And 
now, on the morning after the exciting day, the father and 
daughter were in the cosey library, indulging in a delightful 
talk all to themselves. 

“ Oh, father, to think that the Patriarch should turn out 
to be the old, old man who laid out this place and built the 
house. It seems to me hke a dream.” 

“ Facts are often more strange than fiction, my dear, and 
his wonderful age and preservation are truly marvellous ; 
but I suspect there are many such instances, if we only knew 
them. A good many are on record of men attaining many 
years over the century, and the statements concerning the 
phenomenal age of Thomas Parr cited by Mr. St. Johns 
have never been disproved.” 


406 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ I found a sketch of his life in your work of ‘ Universal 
Biography,’ father, and they say he was born in the year 
1483 and died in 1635, making him one hundred and fifty- 
two years of age. It fairly took away my breath when I 
read it. How I long to see Mr. Kuprianoif again ! He 
will be grander than ever, and it almost seems to me that 
I can’t possibly be as familiar with him as before.” 

‘‘We must certainly take a very early opportunity of 
visiting the Cave and thanking him for what he has done for 
us. St. Johns acknowledges that there was not a shadow 
of hope outside of this unexpected aid which he so oppor- 
tunely brought. Perhaps we can go to-morrow ; but I forgot, 
your cousin Seaman will be home to-morrow, and Ellen wiU 
need your help and counsel in a score of things to start 
house-keeping ; however we will decide on a day.” 

“Do let it be soon, father — I feel as if I could not rest 
until I see him again,” answered Elsie, as she kissed her 
father for the sixth time that morning, she felt so joyful, 
and disappeared to attend to some house-keeping problem. 

A week later and Elsie had tried in vain to find an op- 
portunity to revisit the inmates of the Cave. Ellen and 
Dr. Seaman seemed to need her so much in their efforts to 
start their home that she could not find it in her heart 
to abandon them even for a day. EUen relied on her so 
implicitly, having little knowledge of the practical side 
of life in the new country, and under her tutelage im- 
proved so fast that Elsie was really delighted to help her. 
Her cousin was indeed amazed at the accounts which he 
received of the trial, and his enthusiasm about the “ primeval 
man,” as he called him, even exceeded hers. He was deter- 
mined to see him, if he had to advertise for him as stolen 
or strayed, he declared, and half hinted that she knew 
more of him than she pretended. Indeed, from one or two 
casual remarks dropped by Elsie, Warren drew certain 
conclusions which he determined to verify on the first op- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


407 


portunity. As said, a full week liad passed and the Cave 
unvisited, and the big burden of gratitude weighing on 
Elsie’s warm heart still remained unlightened. She did 
not expect to say much when she met the “ auld one,” as 
she remembered, with a smile, the unreverential Hiram had 
called him, for she knew he would not permit any fervid 
expression of thanks, but to press his hand would, she 
knew, tell him all she felt, even if she uttered no word, for 
he certainly could read her thoughts as no one in mortal 
form had ever done before. However, the young couple 
were pretty well settled at last, and practice already had 
begun to seek the new doctor. 

“ At last I feel as if I could say the day was my own,” she 
said in the afternoon, having paid a visit to Ellen in the 
morning to hold a consultation about some special curtains 
for Warren’s surgery. 

‘‘A note. Miss Elsie, came while you was away. That 
queer fellow brought it.” 

Eagerly opening the missive, she read in pencil : 

Wish much to see you, but wait until you hear further. Will com- 
municate with you very soon, possibly this evening. 

Your loving old friend, 

Nicholas Kuprianofp. 

Elsie was both pleased and vexed to receive this note. 
Vexed because she had half decided to persuade her father 
to visit the Cave the following morning, and now she might 
not see her old friend so soon. However, she was glad to 
hear from him ; and to see the careful, just a little unsteady, 
chirography was a joy. 

“Probably Mr. Adolph will come to-night,” she said to 
herself, and perhaps the thought suggested the rather more 
careful toilet than usual, for despite herself she found her 
mental eyes wandering frequently, of late, to that grave, pa- 
tient face with the soft brown eyes. That countenance in 


408 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


which the masculine and feminine qualities seemed so har- 
moniously and equally blended. From constant associa- 
tion with her father, perhaps it was that Elsie had an 
almost manly contempt for elaborate toilets. To spend 
more than an hour in her dressing-room she would have 
regarded as a shameful sacrifice of valuable time. She 
wisely preferred to spend the time in healthful exercise in 
the pure air out-of-doors, gathering color and glow and 
physical beauty from the fouUtain-head. Her father had 
impressed upon her, again and again, that the true source 
of beauty was health, and having this, a simple garb would 
be infinitely more becoming and attractive than the most 
superb garments and ornaments upon a feeble, sickly frame. 
Father and daughter were wonderfully alike in their tastes ; 
not to be wondered at, perhaps, after all, when one came to 
realize how very intimate had been the lives of these two. 
For after his wife’s death the little motherless one was his 
only thought and care. She it was who made life precious 
to him, and she was rarely absent from his waking thoughts. 

Elsie was reading to her father, an exercise both keenly en- 
joyed, and now and then pausing to listen to his comments 
or explanations. It was about ten o’clock, and the night 
was dark with that soft gathering and enfolding blackness 
which sometimes seems to close in on one like a fog, and 
yet w^arm and pleasant as the touch of a rich fur garment. 
The young lady was just about to commence a new chapter, 
as they finished their discussion of the most striking feat- 
ures in the one just concluded (an excellent practice always 
followed by these companions), when a clear, low voice was 
distinctly heard in the room on the shadowed side farthest 
from the reading-table. 

“ May an old friend come forward to the light?” 

The room was entirely in the shade, with the exception 
of the light-circle from the shaded lamp on the study-table, 
in which circle the two sat. Both started up some^vhat 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


409 


confused, at first, as to where the speaker actually stood, 
although recognizing the voice. 

“ Oh, yes,” exclaimed both at once, and immediately out 
of the dark — evolved as it were from cloud-land — came the 
venerable form of the “Patriarch.” Instantly father and 
daughter sprung forward joyfully, each clasping one of the 
extended hands. 

“ Welcome a thousand times to our home ! ” warmly ex- 
claimed Mr. Hastings. 

“I almost feared my abrupt intrusion was untimely,” 
said the aged visitor, as he kissed Elsie first on one cheek 
and then on the other, “but circumstances rendered it 
necessary to come almost hke a thief in the night,” he con- 
tinued, smiling. 

“ Father, hadn’t I better tell the servants not to sit up any 
longer, as perhaps our friend would that his visit be kept 
secr^*-’ ? ” said Elsie. 

“ My dear child, I would much prefer that my coming 
here should be unknown, if you can so arrange it,” returned 
the Patriarch, before Mi\ Hastings could reply. 

“We can easily manage that. Just tell Mrs. Wagram 
that we wish to be entirely alone to-night.” 

“ Why, father, Mrs. Wagram isn’t here to-night, and has 
been away a great deal lately. Something outside seems 
to worry her very much, and she asked as a special favor 
that I would allow her freedom this month to come and go 
as she wished, and she has been so very faithful that I agreed 
to it without consulting you. I hope I did not do wrong.” 

“ Not at all, my dear ; I leave such things to your own dis- 
cretion. But, my dear sir, you are surely not alone ?” 

The old man smiled, and said, softly : “ Adolph,” and an- 
other form came out of the shadows, saying, “ I, too, would 
come from t^e darkness to the light and meet our dear 
friends once more,” and as the latest arrival took their 
hands in greeting, his father observed, quietly : “ While 


410 


THE RUSSIAN REP^UGEE. 


not burglariously inclined, yet our entrance to-night into 
this home savors not a little of the ways of those gentle- 
men.” 

“By night or by day, by door or window, by ways canny 
or uncanny, my home is open to you both whenever it shall 
please you to come,” said the host, earnestly, 

Elsie, who had left the room to inform the servants as 
her father began speaking, now returned, having met one 
of the girls on her way to the library. 

The ancient man, who seemed to be deeply impressed by 
his surroundings, even more so, Elsie thought, than Adolph 
had been on the former occasion, said, in a voice which 
trembled somewhat : 

“ To revisit my old home and receive such kind welcome 
touches me deeply. I thank you much.” 

“ Yes, your old home. Why, you built the house and laid 
out the grounds, did you not ? How strange, how wonder- 
ful it all is. And we thought you had died ever so long 
ago,” fervently exclaimed the young lady. 

“ Yes, my dear, I built this house, and our appearance 
here to-night proves that it has some secrets which have 
not as yet been revealed to you.” 

“ Why,” said Mr. Hastings, with a peculiar look, “ did you 
not come in the usual way, by the road. I confess you did 
startle me on hearing your voice, and more so on seeing 
you come forward from that side of the room, but con- 
cluded that you must have amved while we were reading, 
and so entered unperceived. Yet I own it puzzled me to 
know how you could so effectually elude our vigilance.” 

The Patriarch smiled, saying : “We neither came by the 
road nor entered by the "window, and so your watchfulness 
and alertness were not at fault in any degree whatever. 
W^e took the liberty of entering your home l>y a door you 
never suspected, and came hither by a road untrodden for 
long, long years.” Again the weird, creeping feeling, as if 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


411 


a supernatural sometliing were liovering near, came over 
one of the listeners, and Elsie’s pulses seemed to congeal 
into frigidity as she gazed on this curious old man. He 
continued, after a brief pause, as was his wont, resting from 
time to time, as Elsie had often noticed before, as if con- 
tinued speaking exhausted him : “ Dear friends, forgive 
us, but it seemed best to come thus, and we took all pre- 
caution to avoid giving you hurtful or needless alarm. We 
came to-night by a secret passage leading from the Cave to 
this very room.” 

“ Impossible ! ” exclaimed both father and daughter 
together ; and the former looked both astonished and 
alarmed. “ A secret passage leading into my house, and I 
living here for tw'enty-seven years, nearly, and not know of 
its existence ! Can it be really so ? ” 

“ Yes ; our being here is one proof, certaiuly, and I can 
speedily convince you. The passage is a subterranean one 
formed by Nature’s own hand, and its discovery, and sub- 
sequently the Cave to which it led, was the cause of my 
building the house on this particular spot. You are aware, 
from what I have narrated elsewhere, that at one period a 
large price was put on my head by the Russian Govern- 
ment, and not knowing what contingency might arise, I 
resolved to utilize this discovery of the Cave, and provide 
a secure refuge in case of especial peril.” And the aged 
speaker again rested, leaning back in the large comfort- 
able arm-chair which his host had insisted on his occu- 
pying. 

“Father feels the effect of long-continued exertion of 
any kind at his great age, of course, but he speedily re- 
cruits,” remarked the son, who sat by affectionately regard- 
ing the venerable man. 

“But this secret passage,” rejoined Mr. Hastings, “con- 
founds and confuses me. How long is it ? Why, it must 
be several miles at least, and how ever could your father 


412 


THE KtJSSIAN REFUGEE. 


bear the fatigue of such a journey ; and then about the 
ventilation, the air must be very bad.” 

“ Only two miles long, Mi*. Hastings,” answered the old 
man, with a smile, as he opened his eyes ; “ and as to the 
ventilation, why, there are a number of places where it 
communicates with the outer air. I did not feel the fa- 
tigue as much as I expected, and almost nothing of it now. 
Remember I was a mountaineer during a portion of my 
early life, and was inured to fatigue. I was called a fa- 
mous walker. But I was speaking of the troublous times 
of half a century ago, and beyond. After erecting this 
mansion, I had this passage cleared out, and free, easy 
communication established between the Cave and this room, 
as said before. After a few years of quiet, philosophic 
existence here with my one servant, who was devoted to 
me, having followed me to this country from my native 
province, and my beloved child, changes came. My boy 
died, and later on I unwittingly drew the attention of the 
Russian Government, and a determined effort was made to 
extradite me and take me to St. Petersburg on a charge of 
sedition and murder. I received prompt warning from a 
friend, and at once took steps to retire from public no- 
tice. I resolved to sell the property and retire to the 
Cave, where I was fairly certain of being secure from mol- 
estation. I disposed of the property to Mr. Whitely, and 
subsequently you became proprietor. Nobody excepting 
a few close personal friends knew of my existence, and I 
died to public interest. I travelled about the country, from 
time to time, disguised, in connection with the Order, doing 
effective work against the tyrants who enslaved my native 
land ; but my journeying was mostly at night. It was on 
one of these journeys that I found my boy. Yes, about 
thirty years since the great blessing came into my life of 
meeting my child, reincarnated — a healthy, strong lad of 
some eight or ten summers. Smile if you please, my dewr 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


413 


friend, but to me it is a profound fact which I accept as I 
do the conviction of immortality,” and the venerable visitor 
paused a moment, giving Mr. Hastings opportunity to 
say: 

‘‘I merely smiled to think how such a faith, which I as- 
sure you is beautiful and interesting to me, would be 
viewed by the world.” 

‘‘ The world’s thought and opinion weighs less than the 
dust of the balance in comparison with yours, my dear sir, 
or that of the beloved child here. A word more and I 
cease. My son’s early life had been sacrificed by undue 
attention to and cultivation of the mental nature, and I 
now resolved that the training of the physical — the develop- 
ment of his body — should take precedence over every other 
consideration, and so he has grown up largely a child of 
nature, as you see him to-day,” and the old man looked 
fondly at the fine specimen of physical manhood beside 
him. “ These are the few necessary links in the chain of 
my life, which I deemed it best you should know, so as to 
be able to make a just estimate of the whole.” 

“And a most interesting recital it has been,” said the 
host ; “ and now let me, in my daughter’s name and my 
own, thank you most sincerely for the heroic kindness 
which induced you, at your great age, to leave your obscu- 
rity and face the vexatious and severe ordeal of the witness- 
stand on our behalf. You saved our property for us, and 
no words can express our obligation,” said the gentleman, 
clasping the hand of his aged visitor warmly. 

“ Yes, indeed, and I feel it as much as father. It was a 
noble self-denying act, and my heart ached when I heard 
that brutal lawyer badger you as he did by his rude 
questions,” added Elsie, her whole countenance glowing 
with the emotion she felt. 

“ My dear friends, you must not talk so, it really dis- 
tresses me. It was a responsibility laid upon me — a para- 


414 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


mount duty as well as a pleasure — to come to your aid 
against those sons of evil. ‘ No obligations between 
friends/ is an old saying of my country. So now while I 
am resting, Adolph will tell you why we chose this peculiar 
way of coming, and also why we selected this late hour.” 

Thus called on, the younger visitor told them that in 
some way or other the Russian government had discovered 
that Ivan had taken refuge in this country, and was in the 
neighborhood of Melville. Some evil-disposed person had 
informed the Russian diplomatic office at Washington, and 
already two detectives were in the vicinity and on the 
watch. “Suspicion has been directed to the region of 
the cave’s entrance by which you visited us, and so we de- 
cided it would be prudent to avoid using that mode of 
reaching our underground dwelling for the present. - So 
father decided that to-night we would reveal to you this 
new mode of reaching us and we you. But of course, so 
long, at least, as our friend Ivan is in danger, it wiU, as you 
understand, I am sure, be necessary to keep the secret 
among ourselves, and guard it religiously from outsiders.” 

“Which caution,” interposed the old gentleman, sud- 
denly, “ would not be necessary if the true relation existed 
between servants and their employers. Then each member 
of a household, be he servitor or served, would be unswerv- 
ing in his fidelity to the family or house, and feel that the 
interest of one was the interest of all. Something of the 
spirit which prevails among the clans of the Scotch High- 
lands, where each member is proud of being a clansman — 
the humblest shepherd this — the proudest chief no more, 
and in this sense they have a common interest, a mutual 
purpose, and each can call the other brother. But I inter- 
rupt,” he said, with that genial smile which so charmed 
Elsie, “ and my excuse must be the deep interest which 
I have always taken in these subjects. My time now must 
be very short indeed, and so I cannot hope to see what cer- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


415 


tainly some of you will — the true fraternal relation estab- 
lished between employers and employes, when the former 
will act as the parent or chief, willing and anxious to share 
all good, material or otherwise, in fair proportion with 
those whose labor earns it, and when the workers will give 
a heart-prompted, faithful, conscientious service in return.” 

‘'As time grows late,” said Adolph, when his father 
ceased speaking, “just let me say that whenever you can 
find time to honor our poor cave home with your presence, 
giving notice to Hiram will insure our attendance here to 
conduct you by the new road.” 

“ Eight from this room ? ” exclaimed Elsie, with almost 
childish glee. 

“ Yes,” returned the gentleman, “ and now, father, sup- 
pose we retire, and in so doing show our friends the secret 
panel.” 

The aged man arose, and placing his arm in that of the 
host, moved forward in the direction of the alcove which 
formed the base of the L shaped library. At the extreme 
end of this alcove or recess, which was about fifteen feet 
long and perhaps eight wide, fitted with book shelves on 
both sides, there was a very elaborately carved solid oak 
panel occupying the entire space laterally, and in height 
about six feet. It was a beautiful piece of wood-work, and 
was always shown to visitors as being a very rare and valu- 
able work of old-time skill. Mr. Hastings had, at his visi- 
tor’s suggestion, brought the lamp in his hand, and Adolph, 
who with Elsie had followed their elders, now lighted a 
dark lantern which he had with him, and threw a strong light 
upon the panel. The dwellers in the ma];ision looked on 
with a curiosity which was intensely keen, to see what 
would happen next. The centre of the panel, a space about 
three feet square was exquisitely engraved and colored in 
the wood, the subject being a battle-field of the olden time. 
This, as contrasted with the surrounding part, cut in basso- 


416 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


relievo, produced an admirable effect as a picture in a 
frame. 

“ That is a gem of art,” said Mr. Hastings, “ and some 
time I must ask you for its history. I never saw anything 
just hke it in all my travelling.” 

“It is an old style, and was done for me by an artistic 
genius who died in Siberia,” replied the old man, a dark 
cloud passing over his face, “another victim of tyi’anny 
and wrong.” 

At a sign from the “ Patriarch,” Adolph now stepped in 
front and quickly touched some part of the panel, and at 
once without any noise the centre disappeared, leaving a 
vacant space framed in the basso-relievo wood-work. A 
rush of cool air nearly extinguished the lamp in Mr. Hast- 
ings’ hand, and both father and daughter looked with 
startled gaze into what appeared a yawning gulf in place 
of the beautiful panel which through so 'long years had 
daily met their gaze. 

“ Well, you are indeed a magician, Mr. Kuprianoff,” said 
the host, after a moment’s natural pause ; “ what wonder 
will you spring upon us next ? ” 

The aged man laughed softly, saying : “ No, not a nec- 
romancer by any means, Mr. Hastings, but one who be- 
lieves in bending nature to man’s uses within the bounds 
of natural law. But look, now your eyes are becoming 
used somewhat to the gloom, and see the rails and the little 
car upon them, on which Adolph has brought me so easily 
and safely.” Yes, there was a ladder leading below, and 
at a depth of perhaps fifteen feet they could just distinguish, 
by the fugitive rays cast into the dark abyss by Adolph’s 
lantern, a small car with a comfortable seat resting upon 
what looked hke the rails spoken of by the old man. “We 
shall go home in half an hour easily, as it is slightly down 
grade all the way to the cave. So good-by, dear friends, 
and pardon us for such uncanny midnight visitation. After 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


417 


we pass tlirough the centre of the panel it will slide back 
to its former position, and no ordinary force short of ab- 
solute destruction can open it from your side ; but I will 
explain the mechanism on my next visit. May Heaven bless 
you both. You are worthy to be the possessors of my old 
home.” 

“ Amen,” fervently repeated the son ; and so these two 
passed through the panel, the elder -descending the steps 
with marvellous agility considering his phenomenal burden 
of years, and then the host and his daughter found them- 
selves gazing at the magic panel, which had been restored 
to its usual place with the same ease and rapidity with 
which it had left it. 

“ Oh, father, and to think we knew nothing about this 
through all these years.” 

“ Something to dream over, my dear. We have, indeed, 
had some strange experiences and revelations within a short 
time. Who will say that fact is not as strange as fiction ? 
But good-night ; it is almost two o’clock, and we both need 
rest.” 

‘‘I know, father, but I feel nervous about them travel- 
ling through the earth in this curious way at this time of 
night.” 

“ Why, Elsie, they are safer there than on the common 
road, and night and day are the same in all subterranean 
regions.” 

“ Of course. I never thought of that. Good-night, 
papa.” 


27 


CHAPTEK XXXIV. 


UNMASKING, 

“ Elsie, sweet coz, when are you going to fulfil your 
promise, and take me to see this very ancient witness of 
yours?” inquired Seaman. ‘‘I’m just dying to see and 
talk with such a prehistoric specimen of the race.” 

“Prehistoric specimen, indeed ! ” exclaimed Elsie. “ Pray, 
do you only date history back a hundred years ? ” 

“ Yes, our history as a separate and independent people 
does not yet date back a hundred years, and your animated 
fossiliferous find dates back, I believe, one hundred and 
twenty. Whew ! wouldn’t I like to dissect him.” 

“Hush, you horrid creature. Ellen, does he often talk 
in that blood-curdling way in your presence ? ” 

Seaman glanced at his fair young wife comically and 
anticipated her reply with, “ Of course I do, and only she 
persuaded me to come over here this afternoon, I should 
now possibly be explaining to her the special features in a 
beautiful case of hydrocephalus which I have at present on 
hand.” 

“ I don’t believe a word of it. He doesn’t talk to you 
about such things, does he, Ellen ? ” 

Ellen laughed merrily as she answered : “ Well, Warren 
does talk about his cases to me sometimes, and tells me, I 
suspect, some, as you term them, blood-curdling things, 
but not understanding medical language very well as yet, 
I don’t suffer very much. He dresses his ghosts pretty well 
before he introduces them at home.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


419 


But you soon will understand medical terms, my love, 
and then, hurrah for the ghosts ! ” 

“ Oh, yes, and by that time I shall be used to them. 
Would you believe it, Elsie, I took a skull in my own hands 
this morning without shuddering, and I know the meaning 
of cerebritis, and aphasia, and some other big words.” 

“And, pray, what may cerebritis mean, my learned 
cousin?” asked Elsie, with mock deference, “or shall I say 
Dr. Ellen ? ” 

“ No, no, I haven’t graduated her yet ; she is only a fresh- 
man in the Seaman Medical College. But tell Elsie what 
is the meaning of cerebritis, Ellen.” 

“ Cerebritis is,” began the young wife with great delibera- 
tion, “the loss of the memory — of inflammation of that part 
of the brain by which we remember words ; ” adding naively, 
“ I didn’t think I could have remembered such along thing 
so weU.” 

Elsie looked duly impressed with the explanation of the 
curious term, but Warren, after a vain effort at self-control, 
finally went off into a paroxysm of hilarious laughter, to El- 
sie’s mock indignation and his wife’s open-eyed amazement. 

“ Thus endeth the first lesson,” he blurted out on recov- 
ering his voice, and then again gave way to his risible pro- 
pensities. 

“ Upon my word, sir, you are a dignified tutor, certainly, 
to indulge in such unseemly merriment because your pupil 
made some sHght error in defining a barbarous medical 
term. Never mind, Ellen, I think more of you because you 
did not have it quite right. I should have gravely doubted 
your sanity if you had made no mistake in such a thing. 
It means something horrible, I know, or he would not have 
tried to teach it to you.” 

“ I am sure I thought I knew it perfectly,” returned Ellen. 
“ Cerebritis — loss of the words which express the inflamma- 
tion of the brain,” she repeated, as if to herself. 


420 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


“ That is just it, my dear — loss of the words, or rather of 
the ideas which those words represent. You evidently are 
suffering with cerebritis,” laughed her husband. 

Well, I’m going to prescribe for her if she is, and so you 
will lose one patient, Mr. Medicine. Come, Ellen, I’ve some- 
thing I want to show you, and so we wiU leave this learned 
gentleman to his own devices for a brief period. Perhaps, 
Warren, you can study out some more peculiarities in cere- 
britis while we are absent. By-by.” 

But Dr. Seaman did not find much opportunity to add 
anything to his knowledge of the disease his cousin referred 
to, for in a few moments after the girls disappeared his 
uncle entered the room in some excitement, inquiring for 
his daughter. 

“ Startling news, Warren,” said he, with a flush on his cheek 
his nephew had not seen there for many a day. “ That old 
rascal Liscomb escaped from the prison, with the assistance 
of a confederate, last night, or rather yesterday afternoon, 
but they have been recaptured, caught before they could 
secrete or disguise themselves, and they are to have a pre- 
liminary hearing this afternoon at three o’clock before Jus- 
tice Gorman, and I am asked to be present. I want Elsie 
to go too, and you and your wife had better come also. What 
do you say ? ” 

“ Just the thing, if Ellen is willing. They left the room 
just before you entered. I am very glad that fellow didn’t 
escape, and the attempt is a tacit confession of conspiracy ; 
but, Uncle Hastings, I have felt aU along that this old man is 
only a tool in the hands of some keener rascal. Pity we 
couldn’t nab the principal.” 

“ Perhaps you are correct in your surmise, Warren, and 
if so, there is a chance that Liscomb, to save himself, may be 
induced to confess, but the examination of the confederate 
may throw some light on the matter.” 

Just at this moment the ladies entered and on being in- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


421 


formed of the subject on hand both expressed the liveliest 
interest in the proposed aiTangement, and promised to be 
ready at the appointed hour. 

J ustice Gorman was a gentleman of wealth, living a couple 
of miles 'from the Hermitage. He was a retired lawyer, and 
had proved a very brave and efficient justice of the peaee 
since his appointment, some ten years before. His large 
office was well filled when Mr. Hastings and his party amved, 
for the news of the capture had been pretty fully circulated 
in the neighborhood. The justice invited IMr. Hastings to 
take a seat beside him, but he declined, for some reasons of 
his own, and seated himself beside his daughter. 

The magistrate opened his little court promptly at the 
time appointed, and ordered the new prisoner to be brought 
in. He was at once led in front of the desk by the local 
constable, and the professional-looking person who had 
figured in the former trial followed close behind, watching 
the prisoner like a hawk. 

“ That is a singular-looking man, that detective ; he 
seems to be shadowing this Liscomb and his friends,” re- 
marked Mr. Hastings to his nephew. 

“ He does look like a very Nemesis in male attire. Elsie 
was just telhng me the part he played in arresting the elder 
criminal before,” replied Seaman. 

The prisoner was a heavily bearded man, in middle life, 
with a florid complexion and red, bushy hair. He looked 
somewhat like a farmer who had been on a spree and was 
half-ashamed of himself. When called on to plead, he re- 
sponded in a deep, gruff voice : 

‘"Not guilty, yer honor.” 

The constable here made his statement as to how he 
came to arrest the fugitives, but frankly disclaimed any 
special merit in the affair, giving all the credit to the detec- 
tive before alluded to. “ This gentleman came to- me day 
before yesterday, and says he, ‘ IVIi*. Blank, I want yer to be 


422 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


on hand to-morrow, as there’ll probably be something to do ; 
likely a prisoner or a couple of them to arrest,’ says he. 
But he gave no manner of details, but told me where to be 
about sunset, and he’d tell me further. Sure ’nuff, I was 
in the place he said at the time, and in about an hour I got 
a message from him, and went and found him with two 
saddle horses, and rode off about ten miles, and arrested 
these two fellers sleeping in a barn. That’s all I know 
about it.” 

At the request of the justice the detective here stepped 
forward, and made his statement. His voice was scarcely 
audible, except to those close by. Elsie could only catch a 
phrase here and there, but the tone sounded strangely 
familiar, and she began wondering where she had heard it 
before. The speaker seemed to be speaking under sup- 
pressed excitement, quite in contrast with the stolid de- 
meanor and unruffled passivity of his class. He briefly and 
rapidly stated that having reason to suspect that the pris- 
oner Liscomb contemplated escaping from prison by the 
connivance of a friend outside, he had taken precautionary 
measures so as to insure the capture of the pair before 
they had proceeded too far. 

“ But why, if you knew of the intended attempt at es- 
cape, did you not inform the prison authorities and so frus- 
trate it ? ” asked the justice. 

“Because,” answered the detective in a voice harsh and 
metallic with concentrated passion, “because I wished to be 
instrumental in detecting and bringing to justice one of 
the greatest scoundrels on this side of hell. He has given 
you a wrong name. See for yourself ! ” and turning, with the 
quickness of thought, to the prisoner who stood on his left 
side, the speaker suddenly grasped the reddish-brown 
beard with his right and the bushy hair with his left hand 
and jerking them violently apart held up before the aston- 
ished spectators, including the prisoner himself, a false 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


423 


beard and wig of ample proportions. So quick had been 
the officer’s action that the culprit, whose arms had been 
folded carelessly on his breast, had not time to make resist- 
ance until the despoilment was accomplished, but now, 
with a horrible imprecation, he suddenly sprang at his de- 
spoiler and with a crushing blow laid him at his feet, and 
then hurling himself upon tlie prostrate man began to beat 
him with remorseless fury. Immediately the constable 
and another man near sprang to the rescue of the hapless 
detective, and dragged the vindictive villain from his vic- 
tim, and in doing so showed to the horrified and astounded 
gaze of the party from the Hermitage the passion-dis- 
torted features of Harry Esmond. Yes, there was no 
doubt of it, although his face was rouged and a false 
mustache still held its place, and then the voice set all 
doubts at rest, as he uttered, in a tone of savage malignity : 

“ God damn her ; I’d like to have killed her ! ” at the 
same time casting a glance of intense hatred at the detec- 
tive, who was being borne senseless from the room. 

Elsie sat pale and trembling, too sick and faint to move. 
Then, with a great effort, she turned to her father : ‘‘ Father, 
do go and see if that poor fellow is badly hurt. And what 
did he mean by those dreadful words. Is there some other 
mystery here ? ” This was said in spasmodic utterances 
and as if each word was being wrenched violently from her, 
by mere force of wiU. 

“ My dear child, this is a dreadful shock for you, but it is 
the natural outcome of his bad life. Warren is with the 
injured officer and will report to us in a moment.” 

The room had been in wild commotion during the 
scene narrated, but order was soon restored, and the young 
desperado was now manacled, and stood bereft of his bor- 
rowed plumage, wearing only his own black curly locks and 
smooth face, with the exception of the ferocious mustache 
before mentioned, sullenly defiant. 


424 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Presently Warren re toned, and taking Elsie by the hand 
said, gravely: “My dear cousin, prepare for another start- 
ling disclosure. This detective is a woman, so there has 
been masquerading all round. God knows what her motive 
is, but she has been the avenging Nemesis to track this 
criminal to his fate. She is recovering from the savage 
blows dealt her by that coward, who evidently recognized 
her, and naturally she wishes to see one of her own sex. 
She asked if you were not in the court room, and requested 
to see 3^ou alone. Will you go in, or don’t you feel well 
enough ? ” 

“ Of course I will go. You don’t object, father, do you ? ” 
said the young lady rising, her color coming back as she 
thought of what this poor woman must have suffered before 
assuming this strange attire and vocation. 

“Go, my child, if you wish, but try and recover your 
natural self-control before going in.” 

She felt that sense of weariness and keen heart sickness 
which comes to every true nature on having hopes dashed 
to the ground, and finding someone for whom we have 
toiled and suffered and prayed prove utterly worthless and 
base. Perhaps there is no heart-sinking like this. She 
opened the door quietly and entered, and there, lying on 
the sofa, still wearing the detective’s dress, but with the 
head and neck disguise all thrown aside, her startled gaze 
was met by the familiar face of the French housekeeper, 
Mrs. Wagram. Her hair was dishevelled, and forehead and 
face discolored by the cruel blows of the infuriated Esmond ; 
but in spite of her generally damaged condition there was 
no mistaking the look of triumph upon the Frenchwoman’s 
countenance. 

“Oh, misericorde. Miss Elsie, I am dying, I am dead. 
That bete noir. But I fixed him. I have been after him 
all this long time, and he didn’t know it. He deceived 
me once and made a tool of me to rob the house, and I 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


425 


swore then, yes, Miss Elsie, I swore a French oath, that I 
would hunt him down, if it cost me my life. And it has 
cost me my life. Oh, the brute, oh, those cruel blows. I 
am a dead woman, but I am glad I have got him now.” 

Elsie waited until the stream of excited utterance partly 
exhausted itself, and then said, soothingly : “ The doctor 

says you will recover from this, only you must not become 
excited, or you may have a dangerous fever. We will have 
you inoved to the house, and when you are calmer you 
shall tell me all about it, and how you came to do such a 
strange thing.” 

“ Does the doctor say I shall recover ? Oh; bon Dieu, 
then I can finish my work and rid you of that snake in the 
grass. Yes, I will be quiet ; ” and here she lay back wearily 
and closed her eyes. The Frenchwoman could, when she 
pleased, speak as good English as anyone, but sometimes 
out of mere whim or caprice would interlard her conver- 
sation with her native vernacular, and now and then, as 
fancy dictated, fall into a sort of broken half French, half 
Enghsh compromise language. 

Meanwhile order had been restored in the outer room, 
and Esmond duly committed on the double charge of aid- 
ing and abetting the escape of a prisoner, and also for an 
aggravated assault on the detective. The culprit had as- 
sumed his usual jaunty free-and-easy bearing, looking the 
magistrate in the face with brazen effrontery as the com- 
mitment was read to him. He asked in a mocking voice 
what bail would be required. ^ 

“ Five thousand dollars,” replied the justice, after a mo- 
ment’s pause. 

‘‘Very moderate, I’m sure. Well, uncle,” turning an 
insolent, half-sneering glance toward Mr. Hastings. “ You 
see the fix I’m in. Surely you won’t let your own nevvy go 
to limbo for a paltry five thousand dollars ? ” 

All felt that this was mere bravado, and that the humili- 


426 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


ation of having such a relative, must be a severe trial to 
the gentleman addressed, yet some curiosity was excited 
to see what course the proprietor of the Hermitage would 
adopt. Nor had they to wait long, for the uncle rose, and 
stepping forward so as to nearly face the reckless scamp, 
said, in tones in which indignation and sorrow seemed to 
be struggling for mastery : “ You shameless scoundrel, the 
knowledge that you hold a blood relationship to me is, in- 
deed, a bitter ingredient in my cup of life. From your 
youth you have manifested a moral depravity, which kind- 
ness, good counsel, example, and all the benign influences 
by which I surrounded you, failed to antidote. I know you 
to have been a liar and a thief, but what other crimes you 
have been guilty of during your absence from this commu- 
nity, God only knows. I have been a father to you, and 
you have repaid me by the blackest ingratitude and crime. 
You have escaped the consequences Of your evil doing, so 
far as I know, up to this time, but now you are caught in 
your own toils, in the net which you have been spreading 
for others. The law shall take its course, and your com- 
plicity with this infamous conspiracy to rob me, your life- 
long benefactor, shall be thoroughly investigated ; and if 
3^our liberty for the rest of your natural life is legally for- 
feited, as I hope it will be — for serpents like you should 
never be free to sting and injure their fellow-men — I will 
not raise a finger to prevent or lessen your punishment. I 
now regard you as a dangerous foe to society, and shall aid 
all I can in depriving you of your power for wrong-doing. 
The law shall take its course.” So saying, the gentleman 
resumed his seat amid the solemn hush which had fallen 
on all while he was speaking. 

From the cool contemptuous look on the countenance of 
the young man during the denunciation of his relative, it 
was expected that a bitter retort would be the result, and 
no doubt Esmond would have delighted in adding venom 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


427 


to the sting he had already inflicted, but just as Mr. Hast- 
ings concluded Elsie re-entered the room, and the prisoner, 
catching her sorrowful sympathetic glance, dropped his 
head on his bosom, and the intended reply died on his 
lips. 

“ If Elsie hadn’t entered just then ” he said subsequently 
to an acquaintance, “ I’d have scathed the old man so’s he 
wouldn’t have known where he was standing.” 

The culprit really loved his cousin in about the same de- 
gree that he despised and detested her father. 

“ Now, Elsie, my dear, remember w’e have done forever 
with that young man. He is thoroughly bad, and the best, 
and indeed, only safe thing for us all, is to have him im- 
mured for life, where he will be compelled to do what he 
always objected to — work.” 

‘‘ Uncle, I have met that precious relative of ours some- 
where, I am confident, but where I cannot recollect ; and I 
know he remembers me, too,” remarked Warren. 

Elsie said but little on the way home, for she felt as if 
her heart was bruised and sore. Pity, sympathy, regret, 
and indignation by turns took possession of her, and she 
indeed felt that the crisis in Esmond’s career had come at 
last. But another uneasy thought would intrude itself too, 
the relation which Esmond had held toward Boland. She 
shuddered to think of where that weak young man might 
have possibly been led by his unscrupulous companion. 
This worried her so that she was half sick on reaching the 
house, and, excusing herself, retired to her own room for an 
hour, so that she could by solitude and thought calm the 
perturbation of her mind. A carriage had been procured 
and Mrs. Wagram brought to the Hermitage, where, safe 
in her own bed, wdth Dr. Seaman in charge of the case re- 
garding her, the young mistress’ mind was easy. But some 
step must be taken, she felt, with regard to young St. 
Johns. He must at any cost have his eyes opened to the 


428 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


true character of Esmond. Yet she shmnk from taking 
any step which would more widely pubhsh to the world 
the family disgrace. At last Elsie decided that she would 
at once write to Mr. St. Johns and tell him the facts, and 
hint that Koland’s intimacy with Esmond might be perilous, 
and urge that it be broken off promptly, by parental au- 
thority if necessary. For she was well aware that her 
astute cousin could easily, to a young man of Koland’s men- 
tal bias and development, make his present imprisonment 
appear in the light of a farce, and himself a sort of hero of 
romance, thwarted by an unkind fate in seeking to aid the 
unfortunate. To decide was to act, with Elsie, and the 
letter was soon written and on its way. Then she felt 
calmer and rejoined her friends. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


“WOES CLUSTER; RARE ARE SOLITARY WOES.” 

A WEEK later, and about ten o’clock in the morning, Elsie 
was on her way to visit a sick neighbor, carrying a small 
basket of dainty food for the invahd. The rude shock of 
her cousin’s disgrace had been partially softened by time, 
and as suspicion only hnked him with Liscomb as a possi- 
ble co-conspirator, nothing farther having resulted from 
the investigation pursued so far, she felt inclined to take a 
more hopeful view of the situation. “ He certainly told 
me that Liscomb owed him a large sum of money, and it 
may be that he was urged on to this desperate step by the 
hope that the prisoner if free, might be able in some way 
to repay him.” 

This view of the case seemed at least plausible, and it made 
her feel happier. To think of one who had been through 
childhood’s yeai’S and early womanhood as a brother, the 
sharer in all her trials and triumphs— as lost to all hope — 
was unbearable to one of her affectionate nature. “ Once a 
friend, always a fr’iend ” with Elsie Hastings, and disloyalty 
even in thought to anyone she had once known and trusted 
was impossible, even though every appearance seemed 
against him. She took a short cut leading through 'a piece 
of woods. It was a maple grove, and the trees were mostly 
very fine ones. Hundreds of banels of sap had she seen 
gathered from these sacchai’ine giants of the forest, and in 
the happy springs past by she had helped at many a 
sugaring oi” And the culprit cousin now behind the 


430 


THE KTTSSIAN REFUGEE. 


prison bars had been her constant companion during these 
frolics. “Ah, well,” she sighed, “what time does bring us 
to be sure.” Just then she thought she heard her name 
mentioned. Yes, as she stayed her steps an instant, the 
word “ Elsie ” was unmistakably brought to her ear in a 
very low tone. 

“ Elsie, may I speak with you,” came after an almost im- 
perceptible pause. She trembled violently, for she thought 
she recognized her cousin’s voice, and it boded no good she 
felt. 

“ Is it you, Harry ? ” at length she faltered. 

“ Yes,” said the voice, a little impatiently, “ I am here by 
the Elfin stump. Come over here, it will be quieter and 
out of observation.” 

The Elfin stump had been so christened by her long 
years before. It had been a large tree, some four feet in 
diameter, struck by the lightning which had almost riven it 
asunder, while subsequent storms had carried away the 
upper two-thirds. It had a blackened, weird aspect, and 
was an object of superstitious dread to many of the more 
ignorant people round. For an instant a half-defined 
dread, a natural womanly shrinking from the painful and 
harrowing, took strong hold of Elsie, and she felt like flee- 
ing incontinently from the spot. Her father’s last words, 
when speaking on the subject, “ Remember, Elsie, we have 
done forever with that young man. He is thoroughly 
bad,” rang in her ears, and urged her onward steps. 

Again came that voice which could be soft and tender or 
harsh and brutal, according to the mood of the owner, and 
now the single word “ Elsie ” was pleading and plaintive 
as it came to the perplexed hearer. 

Somebody says the soul lies in the voice. We cannot 
see the soul of our friend, but we can hear it. 

“Harry, I cannot stay. I had better not.” 

But those pitiful beseeching tones, “Just for a mo- 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


431 


ment, Elsie — you will not refuse me this once ? ” again ar- 
rested her steps. 

“She who hesitates,” says the old proverb, and so it 
proved in this case. In a moment more the young lady 
was beside her cousin, who wrung her hand passionately 
as he exclaimed : 

“ I knew you would not go back on a fellow, Elsie, but 
give him a chance to say a word for himself.” 

“ Harry,” she replied, when she could sufficiently com- 
mand her voice, for she felt nervous and anxious, hardly 
knowing why, “ the occurrences of the past few days have 
been so painful that it would have been better if we had 
never met again. You have mortally offended father, and 
he would not like my being with you now.” 

He interrupted her with something of his old bravado : 
“ Well, didn’t the old gent just go for me ! why, the old 
duffer pitched into me when I first came back, though he 
hadn’t seen me for nearly ten years. I don’t like him for 
one cent, if he is my uncle.” 

She listened with amazement to this tirade, and her 
cheek rapidly changed from pale to burning red. 

“For shame to speak of your best friend so. If you 
have no common gratitude toward your uncle, you might 
at least exhibit some respect for a father in the presence 
of his daughter. I shall leave you at once if you utter an- 
other word against a man who is as noble, true, and just 
-as you are shiftless and ungrateful,” 

“Shiftless and ungrateful! This from you, Elsie, the 
only woman I respect and love ? But I will not say any- 
thing more against the — I mean my respected uncle.” 

“Please explain what you want with me, for I must not 
delay,” she said, impatiently, for she experienced an un- 
easiness she could not define. Something in her compan- 
ion’s manner alarmed her ; his cheeks were flushed, and 
he acted somewhat as if he had beeu drmking ; yet he 


432 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


was not by any means intoxicated. But his eyes had a 
brilliancy, and his manner an appearance of half-suppressed 
excitement, which made her regret having joined him. 

“ Let us talk as we go on. You recollect this path well : 
it is parallel with the highway, and will not be much out of 
your way.” 

He then went on to tell her, in rather a rambling way, that 
he had succeeded in obtaining bail, and was a free man 
again ; that his helping Liscomb to escape was to enable 
him to procure some funds with which to pay a part of his 
debt to the speaker. “1 know it was fooHsh, but I was 
always fond of excitement, and never counted risks, and 
somehow generally come out on top,” he said, somewhat 
boastfully. 

His account of matters, or explanation, as he called it, 
and proposals for the future, were, she could not help think- 
ing, although her own mind was in too excited a state 
to be quite judicial, singularly rambling and discursive. 
They had arrived at the end of the copse, and were about 
to emerge into the clearing beyond, when Esmond stopped 
suddenly and faced her. 

“ Elsie, you must be my wife. I cannot live without 
you. Come and be my guardian angel, and I will reform 
and be what you will.” 

He stood before her right in the path, so that to advance 
was impossible. A fierce glitter shone in his eyes, and a 
half-threatening lower of the brow showed her that the 
worst and most reckless motives were in the ascendant 
now. At first she had flashed indignantly when he so ad- 
dressed her, but now her wish was to avoid him and es- 
cape from his power. 

‘‘ Harry,” she answered, quietly, but with visible effort, 
“you have no right to address me so. What you speak of 
you know can never be. That was settled before, and I 
spoke plainl;)r th^n, I would do any reasou^bl§ fting to 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


433 


help you to a better life, but tliis is only a wild dream. 
Let me pass, please.” 

He listened impatiently, the frown deepening on his 
brows, and as she concluded he bent toward her, and hissed 
rather than spoke, his whole bearing indicating the deep 
passion which possessed him. 

“That is your answer, is it? — now hear mine,” and in- 
stantly a handkerchief was thrown over her face, a hand 
pressed firmly upon her lips, and she felt herself borne 
rapidly down the slope leading from the woods. 

At first the movement was so sudden that she made no 
attempt at resistance ; but this passive condition was only 
momentaiy, and then she made vigorous efforts to free herself, 
but soon found she was but a child in the hands of Esmond. 
Suddenly he stopped, and she heard whispered words and 
the door of a carriage opened. Her captor, who was, she 
judged by his deep breathing, rather exhausted from his 
effort, then attempted to thrust her into the vehicle. She 
resisted with all her might, and she was more than or- 
dinarily vigorous, and in the scuffle, in which she had to 
oppose the united strength of two men, the large silk 
handkerchief became displaced, and she cried loudly for 
help. 

The covering was immediately reapplied vdth a muttered 
imprecation on the part of the stranger, for it was not Es- 
mond’s voice, she was satisfied. 

Immediately the quick tramp of a horse was borne to her 
ears. Her captors heard it too, and redoubled their exertions ; 
but the sound had given her new strength, and their efforts 
proved futile. 

“Hold on, there — what are you doing with that lady?” 
rang out in trumpet tones. Her heart gave a great throb 
of exultation, her grasp on the panels of the carnage re- 
laxed, and she knew no more. The horseman who had ar- 
rived so opportunely reined up his horse just as the now 
38 


434 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


flaccid, unresisting form of Elsie was thrust into the vehicle 
and the door slammed to. 

“ Drive for your life ! ” shouted Esmond, as he sprung on 
the box, while his assistant stood on the steps, with one hand 
on the door-knob and the other grasping the edge of the roof. 

The driver lashed his horses, and away whirled the car- 
riage before Adolph — for it was he — was able to intercept 
them. Rapidly wheeling his steed, the Russian was after 
them at full gallop. 

In a few moments he was up with them, and called loudly 
on them to stop. 

“Damn you,’’ shouted Esmond from the box, “what busi- 
ness is it of yours ? We’re taking this woman tor a lunatic 
asylum. You go back in a hurry and leave us alone, or it’ll 
be worse for you.” 

“I don’t believe you, and unless you stop I’ll shoot your 
horses, ’’returned the horseman, whose blood was thoroughly 
aroused, drawing a revolver as he spoke. 

“ Two can play at that game,” returned the other, who 
unperceived by Adolph held a pistol ready-cocked in his 
hand. A report followed, and the Russian felt a tingling 
sensation in his left shoulder. 

It was down-grade, and the pace of the carriage horses 
was terrific under the ready lash of the driver, and taxed 
the riding horse to keep up. 

As Esmond fired, the Russian, feeling he was wounded, 
fired quickly at the off-horse, which, springing up suddenly, 
dashed forward more rapidly for a few yards, and then 
dropped in the traces, the other tripping and falling over 
him, the carriage overturning with the sudden shock. 
Esmond and the man on the step leaped safely clear of the 
vehicle, but the driver, not so fortunate, was heavily thrown. 
A scream came from the carriage, and Esmond, with white 
face, sprung toward it and tore open the door, which was 
skyward, owing to the position of the vehicle, 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 435 

“ Good God ! Elsie, are you hurt ? ” he gasped, with 
agony in every feature. 

Adolph, who was carried on some yards by the impetus 
of his steed, now dashed back, checking the animal within 
a few feet of Esmond, the smoking revolver still grasped in 
his hand. 

“ Eight that carriage and release that lady, or by Great 
Heaven I’ll shoot you down like rabbits,” he exclaimed, 
with a fierceness of mien which left no doubt in the minds 
of his hearers that he would fully carry out his threat. 

Esmond, however, was too much concerned about the 
safety of his cousin to think of anything else, and he and 
his partner worked feverishly to right the vehicle, while, 
like the figure of Avenging Fate, with the deadly weapon 
in his hand pointing at them, stood the horseman, an 
equestrian statue of fierce determination. 

By the exercise of all their strength the two succeeded 
at length in raising the carriage into its proper position, 
and as it righted, the occupant sprung quickly out of the 
open door, right in front of Adolph. Her head was bare, 
and her dress torn and disordered by the terrible experi- 
ence she had passed through, but otherwise she appeared 
uninjured. 

Astonishment, sympathy, and fiery indig-nation seemed 
to mingle in the Russian’s countenance, and for a second 
deprived him both of speech and power of action. At 
length, with almost livid Hps, he contrived to gasp the word 
“ Elsie ! ” and then the red blood rushing tumultuously from 
the life-fountain suffused his face, as he stammered out, 
‘‘I mean Miss Hastings,” while a wild impulse of passionate 
desire for vengeance seemed to sweep over him, carrying 
everything before it. 

“Those devils incarnate ! ” and raising his right hand, 
armed with the instrument of death, he swung his horse 
fiercely about to look for her abductors and inflict swift 


436 


THE EUSSIAN KEFTJGEE. 


vengeance upon them. But the others had disappeared, 
with the exception of the driver, who still lay senseless on 
the ground, his head having come violently in contact with 
a bowlder on the side of the road. 

“ They shall not escape,” he exclaimed, fiercely, putting 
spurs to his horse. But as the animal plunged forward, 
the thought of Elsie, abandoned and neglected, here alone, 
came to him, and he checked his horse so suddenly as to 
nearly unseat himself. Forgive me ; I am savage and 
brutal, but the thought of this outrage almost maddens me.” 

He sprung from the saddle and hastened to her side. 
“ Are you injured ? ” he asked, tenderly, taking her hand 
and looking into her face anxiously. Fool that I am, of 
course you are hurt. How could you escape ? — and I in my 
insane fury about to abandon you. Forgive me.” 

Elsie, AYho had remained standing as if rooted to the spot, 
just where she had landed on springing from the carriage, 
rigid as stone, with eyes wide open and directed to the 
front, her left hand pressed over her heart, and the right 
extended straight out — never answered a word or moved a 
muscle. Her hand lay cold and motionless in his grasp, 
and she looked, indeed, but for the rose-tint on her lips 
and cheeks, as if she were a marble statue. 

“ Oh, they have murdered you,” he moaned, in anguish. 
“ Speak to me, my darling, my life.” 

And throwing his left arm impulsively around the pas- 
sive form, he showered warm kisses on her brow and lips, 
while hot tears fell upon the motionless face like rain. 
The strong man trembled in his deep agony, ^nd all the 
power of his vigorous manhood seemed to wilt and wither 
in the fierce flames of those few moments of bitter suffer- 
ing. 

There are supreme moments in our lives, both of grief 
and joy, when the iron of events, heated to a sevenfold in- 
tensity in the fervid fix-e of some harrowing experience, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


437 


seems to burn characters into the yielding soul never to be 
obliterated while time endures. There they stand, graven 
deeply into the rock of our memory, as a milestone on 
the highway of being, a monumental pillar with the inef- 
faceable writing upon it, a new birthday tablet from whose 
dating we begin henceforth to live or die. 

Adolph felt, in those few moments of transcendent suffer- 
ing, if we do think at these times — and we do, though auto- 
matically, and as it were by an agency independent of our 
volition, and outside of ourselves — that he never could be 
the same man again. He was in this dark experience dy- 
ing to his old self, and the death-film obscured his vision, 
so that no gleam of the new life into which he was being 
born as yet reached him. God help us all when we are 
called on to pass through the dark valley of despair ! 

Elsie, t^e morning star of his life, for such he had called 
her, and such, indeed, she had become to him, was dead, so 
he fully believed. She lay lifeless on his arm, and when 
he placed her tenderly on the ground and almost wildly 
chafed her hands and tried to induce breathing, and met 
no response to his frantic efforts, hope died within him. 
Still, he persisted in his labor. Fetching water from a lit- 
tle spring he knew of hard by, he sprinkled her face and 
hands, working in a veiy fever of effort. 

So busily was he engaged in his task that he was deaf to 
the sound made by a rapidly approaching carriage, and was 
startled presently by some one touching him on the shoulder, 
saying, “ Can I help you, sir? What is the trouble?” 

He looked up in a dazed sort of way, not ceasing his 
efforts, however, and saw a gentlemanly-looking man, who 
was regarding him with compassionate eyes. 

‘‘Are you a physician ? ” he inquired, eagerly, with a be- 
seeching look which the other never forgot. 

“ I have studied medicine, and walked the hospitals once. 
Let me examine your patient.” 


438 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


The Russian arose, trembling visibly as he did so. “I 
fear there is no hope. She is ” He stepped aside, look- 

ing the word which his tongue refused to utter, and mo- 
tioned the other to take his place beside the prostrate body. 

The stranger knelt down and placed his ear to the heart 
of the motionless form. After a minute of careful listen- 
ing, which seemed an age to the friend standing by, he rose, 
saying quietly, “ She is not dead ; the heart has still an 
exact and rhythmic, although very deficient, action. The 
pulse is not perceptible, but there is circulation going on.” 

“Is that true? can she live ?” exclaimed the anxious lis- 
tener, clasping the other’s hands, and looking as if he were 
himself deeper within the gray shadows of the tomb than 
the one lying so calm and still on the grass beside them. 

“ My poor friend, calm yourself. It is a case of what 
medical men. call ‘trance,’ and she will most probably come 
out of it in a few hours. She must have experienced some 
dreadful shock, which has thrown her into an hysterical 
condition, and this is the culmination. God bless me ! what 
is the matter ? ” for as he spoke a sudden pallor spread over 
the face of his listener, and the Russian fell prostrate on 
the sod. 

“ Only a fainting-fit,” he said, after feeling his pulse, to 
his two companions, who had remained in the background 
standing by the carriage in which they had arrived. “ There, 
that will do ; lay him quite flat. Keep the head low — he 
will come to quickly. These strong, healthy natures soon 
recover. What a splendid specimen of physical humanity ! 
Ought to be an Englishman — probably he is. Been some 
bad work here this morning. We must And out what has 
done this mischief. But, bless my soul ! we mustn’t leave 
the lady lying there. Bring the carriage cushions. Yes, 
that will do. She will do nicely there. Fine, handsome 
girl she is. Have seen her somewhere before. Good 
Heavens ! this is IMiss Hastings ! ” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


439 


Two persons started at these words. One was the faint- 
ing man, who opened his eyes widely and rose into a sitting 
position, and the other was the professional-looking person 
we have met before, who bounded forward in intense ex- 
citement. Yes, it was the masquerading detective, who had 
kept by the horses, holding them while the others had been 
attending to the ailing ones. 

“ Oh, mon Dieu ! Miss Elsie,” and rushing forward, the 
speaker flung himself down beside the senseless form. 

“ Oh, great God ! is she dead ? — oh, tell me she is not 
dead ! ” he implored, after feeling the still face and hands 
with frantic eagerness. Mon Dieu ! it will kill her father.” 

No, she is not dead, nor dying, but in a trance from 
which she will probably recover after a while,” replied the 
leader, eying the professional-looking person curiously, as 
if he already half suspected the truth. 

Adolph here arose from the ground, looking weary, 
and worn, and confused, as if trying to collect his scattered 
thoughts. Suddenly his eyes rested on Elsie’s prostrate 
form, and with a moan of anguish he sprung toward it. 

“ She must not lie here a moment longer. You say she 
may live — yes, she shall live,” he said, almost fiercely. “ The 
star of my life cannot thus set in darkness. If father were 
only here, he could cure her.” 

These words were spoken as if to himself, as if he were 
holding strong converse with his own ‘soul. And while 
speaking he had been moving about with instinctive energy 
and adroitness, preparing the carriage for the unconscious 
one. 

The horse which Adolph had shot was only stunned, the 
bullet having glanced on the skull, but with sufficient force 
to prostrate the animal senseless for some moments. Now, 
however, on being released from the encumbering harness, 
it managed to stagger to its feet, and the other being unin- 
jured, and nothing else seriously damaged, except the front 


440 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


part of the carriage, the important parts escaping, it was 
decided to utilize the vehicle in conveying Elsie home. 

In a few words Adolph put the medical stranger in pos- 
session of the facts of the attempted abduction and the 
subsequent incidents, and was amazed to hear him exclaim 
as he finished the recital, “ Wonderful ! Why, bless my 
soul, my dear sir, those are the very fellows I am after. 
No doubt of it, your description is correct. They are a 
couple of sharpers who have escaped from our claws in 
England, and I have been tracing them up all over this wild 
country of yours for eight months.” 

Then, addressing the professional-looking person, “ Mr. 
Harrington, you go home with Miss Hastings, and this gen- 
tleman — I’ve forgotten your name, sir ; thank you — Mr. 
Adolph, will accompany you. Richard, you go with me ; 
they can hardly escape us this time.” 

In a few moments everything was so arranged, and Elsie 
lying on the cushions in the carriage. As they were about 
parting Adolph turned to the stranger and with a lurid fire 
in his eye observed, “ Could you not come with us ? You are 
a doctor, and we need your services ; and then I will join 
you in seeking those devils, and Heaven help them if I find 
them ! Yes, I know every inch of the country, and can fol- 
low a trail like a sleuth-hound.” 

“A good thought; and you can render us invaluable 
help, but we dare not lose the time or these chaps will have 
made cover. On foot they can only have gone a short dis- 
tance. No, I am not a physician, although I have had a 
surgeon’s training in part and know as much as some of 
them, but the patient needs no attention immediately and 
may not for many hours. Take her home and keep her in 
a well-aired, well-lighted room, and send at once for your 
family doctor, keeping, of course, a faithful nurse with her. 
Then you can join us at the Dyke House, or wait there un- 
til you hear from me. Good-by,” he said, wringing Adolph’s 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


441 


hand ; “ don’t be too cast down. The young lady will prob- 
ably come out all right.” 

So saying, the speaker and his companion drove rapidly 
away in one direction, while the other two with their sad 
burden turned their horses’ heads toward the Hermitage, 
Mr. Harrington driving and Adolph in the carriage to 
watch over the unconscious Elsie. The saddle horse was 
hitched to the vehicle behind. 

Once only did either of these two strangely-brought-to- 
gether companions speak during the short trip ; it was 
when Adolph asked, “ Who is that gentleman who has just 
left us?” and the other answered, “An English detective.” 

Before departing the Englishman had bound the uncon- 
scious coachman hand and foot. 


CHA-PTER XXXVI. 


NEMESIS. 

“Doctob, can she recover ? is there any hope? ” and the 
father looked eagerly into the face of the old physician. 

“Yes, she can, and probably will.” 

“ And be as well as ever ? Be frank with me ; remember 
it is my only child, but yet I must know the truth,” and the 
voice was firm, although so husky as to be hardly recogniz- 
able for that of the owner of the Hermitage. 

“Now, my dear Mr. Hastings, you are asking too much. 
In these cases of catalepsy or hysterical trance-coma 
there are several contingencies which have to be guarded 
against, but judging from the healthy nature of your 
daughter, I think I am justified in giving the most favor- 
able prognosis. I hope for her complete recovery.” 

Mr. Hastings wrung his hand silently, unable to trust 
his voice. 

Dr. Rand had been the ' family physician, and had 
watched over Elsie from birth, and fortunately had been in 
the vicinity when the melancholy cortege bearing the poor 
senseless girl had reached the Hermitage, and was at once 
called in. He had formerly resided in Melville, but for 
the past few years had lived on a farm within an hour’s 
ride of Mr. Hastings, gradually withdrawing from active 
practice, as he was now past seventy. Just as he was leav- 
ing the house, after giving full and minute directions as to 
Elsie’s treatment, he was touched on the shoulder by 
Adolph. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


443 


“Doctor, before you go will you kiudly examine my 
shoulder. I think I have a bullet there, and it is becom- 
ing quite painful.” 

“A bullet ! a bullet ! Is it possible, and you keeping so 
quiet about it all this time ! Let me see it at once,” leading 
the way to a small reception-room off the hall. “ Ton my 
word, young man, you have a great deal of endurance and 
courage. Why, that must have hui’t you badly ! ” exclaimed 
the old physician as he gazed with critical eye at the swol- 
len tissue. “ Ploughed right through the fleshy part of the 
deltoid and just escaped the edge of the glenoid cavity. 
Lucky fellow ! an eighth of an inch more and we should have 
had a fracture of the joint. Aha ! here’s the mischief-maker 
just under the skin on the posterior aspect. Can you bear a 
Httle cutting ? Of course you can. Any man that can bear 
a wound like that for an hour without squealing can endure 
anything,” and while he was speaking the old surgeon had 
cut deliberately down on the bullet and in a moment had 
it in the jaws of his pocket forceps. “ Aha ! pretty fii'mly 
imbedded. Don’t move. Yes, here it is — a thirty-eight 
calibre, at the least,” holding the lump of lead before his 
patient. “That fellow shot to kill. Do you know who he 
was ?” 

“ The affair was so sudden, and the excitement while it 
lasted so intense, that really I didn’t notice the fellows as 
closely as I ought to have done, but I shall meet them 
again, for I am off as soon as you have dressed my wound, 
to aid the detectives in hunting them.” 

“ Nonsense ; you mustn’t think of such a thing, with that 
shoulder ; you must keep quiet or you may have serious in- 
flammation.” 

But remonstrances were vain, for in ten minutes the 
wounded man was on the road to the place of rendezvous. 

On arriving at the Dyke House he found the two detec- 
tives awaiting him. 


444 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Glad to see you, Mr. Adolph, again, and if you know the 
twists of this confounded country, I shall be only too glad 
to submit to your guidance,” said the leader, grasping him 
warmly by the "hand. “ Fact is, the fellows know the re- 
gion and have taken to hiding. Haven’t been on any of 
the regular roads at all.” 

The Russian remained silent a moment, and then, as if 
having decided something in his mind, exclaimed vehe- 
mently, “I have it ! They are in the gopher hole. You 
must take to saddle and I will guide you.” 

In a brief period the three horsemen were on the way to 
the “ gopher hole,” having, at Mr. Lippens’ suggestion, for 
it was he, partaken hastily of some refreshment. Adolph 
demurred somewhat at the detention, so eager was he to 
be on the road, but yielded to the sententious remark of 
the other, that “No man can fight well on an empty stom- 
ach.” 

The gopher hole was a sort of cache or hollow in the 
rocky wall which formed one side of the bed of a mountain 
stream which rushed tumultuously through the winding 
course nature had riven for it by volcanic agency and the 
periodical attrition of mud, sand, pebbles, and bowlders 
which mingled in the flood of spring and early summer. 
During the rest of the year the stream bed was dry, and 
only then was the cache accessible. Its existence was 
known only to a few hunters and trappers, and it was diffi- 
cult of access. Adolph and Hiram both knew it well, hav- 
ing frequently taken refuge there from sudden storms 
when out hunting. 

“ Take care ! Stoop as you pass along here, for you can 
be seen from the gopher at this point,” said the Russian, 
as suiting the action to the word, he crawled rather than 
walked along a ledge leading obliquely to the entrance of 
the hiding-place. 

The others carefully followed his example, and soon the 


THE EUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


445 


three were in close proximity to the den. They had been 
obliged to leave the horses some distance away tied to con- 
venient saplings. So carefully had they conducted their ap- 
proach that no sound had apparently reached the outlaws, 
judging from the stillness which prevailed. 

“I fear we have had our labor for nothing,” whispered 
the Englishman. 

The Kussian answered by pointing to a slender jet of 
smoke which was curling up lazily from the mouth of the 
cache. 

“ Hist ! Down on your faces ! ” and the warning came 
none too soon, for a bullet whistled in unpleasant proximity 
to the party as they crouched on the pathway. 

“Now give them a volley right in the mouth of the den,” 
said the detective, who here seemed to realize the situation, 
and at once took charge. Simultaneously three reports 
rang out, making echoes in every direction. 

“ There is no way of escape for you but by this path, as 
you well know,” shouted the detective, having been so in- 
formed by Adolph. “If you wish to save your lives sur- 
render at once.” 

A negative to this proposition was at once entered by a 
second shot from the gopher hole. 

“ Say,” whispered the other detective, a remarkably silent 
man, who during the trip had only spoken when directly 
addressed ; “ I hev a s’picion as to who one of them fellers 
is. I’ve been ’quiring around an’ find that the newy of the 
old man down the big house jest worships the ground thet 
young woman walks on — her thet’s lying good as dead 
yonder. Yer see thet too, in his trying to tote her off in 
thet kerrige. Now, ’pears to me thet ef he knew she be 
pooty near done for, owing to him, he’d kinder wilt an’ 
mebbe listen to reason.” 

Lippens listened patiently and brightened at once. 

“ There’s something in you, Grubbs, after all.” And in a 


446 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


whisper to Adolph, “ I brought him along because he’s as 
strong as a horse and as brave as a lion, but didn’t go much 
on his head.” 

They were crouching behind a projecting rock which 
sheltered them, and yet gave them control of the mouth of 
the outlaws’ hiding-place. So the detective decided to try 
and parley once more, and leaning forward as far as he 
deemed prudent he called out in a clear voice, and as they 
were only some forty feet distant, he knew his words would 
be easily heard : 

“ It is no use fighting against fate. We are bound to 
take you, boys, if it requires a week, and I wouldn’t care, 
only for that poor dying girl that we carried a couple of 
hours ago to the Hermitage. A nice sight for the poor 
father, seeing his daughter, that left the house healthy and 
strong, carried home as good as dead.” 

“ It’s a damned lie ! ” shouted a voice from the cache ; “ I 
saw her jump out of the carriage myself.” 

The agitation of the speaker was manifest in the trem- 
bling of the voice, and the detectives exchanged smiles with 
each other at the startling admission conveyed in the 
words. 

“ What you say is true,” replied Lippens, “ but I give 
you my solemn word, that she hasn’t moved or spoken 
since. The shock paralyzed her, and if she is not already 
dead, her life hangs on a thread.” 

A deep, hollow groan came from the den, and presently 
a step was heard and a man staggered forth, holding one 
hand pressed to his forehead and the other extended be- 
seechingly toward the besieging party. His face, Adolph 
could see, was drawn and white, and his eyes seemed to be 
protruding from their sockets. 

“For God’s sake, men, if you are human, is Elsie dead ; 
can it be that I have kiUed her ? ” Here his pistol dropped 
from his nerveless grasp, for he had been holding it, muz- 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


447 


zle down, as if unconscious that he held it at all, and at the 
same instant Lippens leaped forward and seized him. 

“Tell me, tell me the truth about Elsie! I surrender; 
do with me as you please, but tell me truly, does she live ? ” 

So piteously did the pale face plead that even the experi- 
enced detective was touched, while Adolph’s desire for 
vengeance died away, and his own intense grief was soft- 
ened as by sympathy in presence of so much abject misery. 

“ Miss Hastings is just alive, and that is all. She lies 
motionless as a piece of that rock yonder.” 

Could this nerveless, wilted, utterly feeble and woe-be- 
gone piece of humanity be the gay and scornful Harry Es- 
mond, the man who believed in using his fellows as so 
many pawns to help him win his game and checkmate his 
opponents ? 

The truth was that, like Achilles of old, this singularly 
resolute and ruthless man had been struck by the arrow of 
fate in the only vulnerable point in his hardened nature 
— the love for his cousin ; for difficult as it may seem to 
reconcile his conduct with such a sentiment, Harry Esmond 
loved Elsie with all the intensity of a strong, undisciplined 
nature. She had been his boyhood’s admiration, his man- 
hood’s passion, and the determination to make her his wife 
never wavered, let such consummation be arrived at in what 
way it might. Her positive refusal to view him in the light 
of suitor did not turn him from his settled purpose. It 
galled and exasperated him, to be sure, but largely because 
he suspected her partiality to another, and that other he 
felt satisfied was the Kussian, Adolph. But this discovery 
of an obstacle in his path was only the prelude to concert- 
ing measures for its removal. 

His detection and subsequent incarceration for attempt- 
ing to free Liscomb upset his plans for a time, and it 
was during his detention in prison that he conceived the 
project of abduction. Baffled in the attempt, there was 


448 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


nothing for him but to hide until the storm blew over. 
Never supposing his cousin had been injured, his only 
thought had been how to escape aiTest, when the appalling 
words of the detective reached him, and caused him at once 
to forget his personal safety in an overwhelming anxiety 
for the fate of her he had so fearfully wronged. 

Sceptical and distrustful in a phenomenal degree as he 
was, yet there was something in the voice of the officer 
which came to him as truth, and at once remorse, despair, 
anguish seizing upon his soul as so many fiends, lifting 
him for the time out of himself, had scattered his ordinary 
selfishness, prudence, and sagacity to the winds. His men- 
tal agony was indeed harrowing to witness. He writhed 
as if in the grasp of some unseen demon, so that his captor 
with difficulty retained his hold on him ; then, with a quick 
movement, twisting himself loose and stepping forward, 
picked up his fallen weapon, and before Lippens could 
prevent him, placed it at his temple and pulled the trigger. 
The charge exploded, but the bullet struck the rock above, 
scattering some fragments at their feet, and the next in- 
stant the pistol was wrenched from the would-be self-mur- 
derer, and he was securely handcuffed. 

The assistant had stolen quietly forward, and unseen by 
Esmond was standing close by when the attempt at suicide 
was made ; yet so sudden had been the movement that 
he had only time to strike down the raised elbow of the 
prisoner violently with his own pistol, and so diverted 
the direction of the death-messenger. A second later, 
and the young man would have paid the penalty of his 
crime, or crimes — prisoner, judge, and executioner — all 
in one. 

“ The game’s up ; come out ! ” shouted the detective in the 
direction of the cache. 

“I s’pose I’ll hev to, but if that blasted fool hadn’t 
turned soft we’d a fixed yer. But three ag’in’ one’s not 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


449 


fair play.” So saying, the other culprit came grumblingly 
forward and gave up his weapon. 

Adolph recognized him at once as the man who had 
stood on the step of the carriage after thrusting Elsie into 
it. He, too, was safely manacled, and the captors and capt- 
ured left the scene of the arrest for the jail at Melville. 

29 


CHAPTER XXXm 


OCCULT THERAPEUTICS. 

Dr. Seaman arrived at the Hermitage a short time after 
the old physician left and at once proceeded to Elsie’s room, 
where Mrs. Wagram was watching her with a mother’s de- 
votion. He started at first on recognizing her as his detec- 
tive patient of the squire’s office, and then frankly gave' her 
his hand and inquired after Elsie’s condition. She gave 
him as clear and succinct a statement as she knew, and 
then he examined the still unmoving form of his cousin. 

“Undoubtedly a case of catalepsy induced by shock,” he 
said to his uncle. “ Nothing can be done but to watch her 
closely and keep the room well ventilated and at a tempera- 
ture of about sixty. Plenty of fresh air is the all-important 
thing. I will try and meet Dr. Rand on his next visit.” 

“ But, Warren, how long may this condition last ? When 
shall we look for a change ? ” inquired the anxious parent. 

“K it continues very long we shall then have to institute 
measures to restore her, but for the present I should not 
advise it. Now, uncle, you must not worry yourself ; she 
will come to all right, I have little doubt, as she seems to 
have sustained no injury so far as I can tell at present. 
She has such a naturally strong, healthy constitution that I 
have every hope in the case.” 

“ But she does not seem to breathe at all, and I cannot 
feel any pulse,” urged his uncle, who seemed to have grown 
many years older within the past few hours. 

“ That is true, my dear sir, but yet respiration and cir- 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


451 


culation are going on regularly, and quite sufficient to main- 
tain life. She must be kept well covered so as to secure a 
uniform warmth. My advice is, not to interfere at present, 
but give nature a chance. However I will consult with 
Rand about it this afternoon.” 

When Dr. Rand amved at the Hermitage he was accom- 
panied by Dr. Seaman, and the two at once proceeded to the 
room of the young mistress of the establishment. After 
spending a few moments there they retired for consultation, 
and when their deliberations were over sent for IVIr. Hastings 
and told him that they coincided in not taking any active 
measures until the following morning. They found Adolph 
awaiting them in the hall and eager to know the state of 
the patient. Mr. Hastings grasped his hand warmly, thank- 
ing him earnestly for what he had done for his child, 
although the full extent of the obligation he was not aware 
of,» neither did he know that his own nephew was the cause 
of all his present woe. Seaman, on being introduced, was 
much impressed with the frank, manly bearing of the 
Russian, and asked to be permitted to examine his wounded 
shoulder. Mr. Hastings urged him to remain in the house 
for a day or two, that he might have proper surgical atten- 
tion. 

“ I dare not accept your kindness, on account of my 
father. He is much distressed about this matter, and at his 
great age it would not take much to snap the feeble thread 
of his life.” 

‘‘ Surely,” said Seaman, a sudden thought striking him — 
“ surely you are not the son of that wonderful old man I 
have heard of who has lived upward of a century ? ” 

“Yes,” replied the other, his eyes kindling, “I have the 
honor to be his unworthy son. But, dear friends, I must 
not delay ; yet, if Mr. Hastings will allow, I will come here 
morning and evening to have my arm looked after by these 
gentlemen,” 


452 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


This was gladly agreed to by all ; but the old surgeon 
smiled to himself as he thought how little place the wound 
had in bringing the gentleman there twice a day, having 
borne the presence of a painful injury and an irritating 
lump of lead for several hours without a single complaint. 

“He’s a born soldier, that fellow. I like him im- 
mensely,” he remarked to Dr. Seaman, in parting from 
him, after discussing the peculiarities of the Kussian’s 
wound. 

Elsie’s condition remained unchanged all night, and the 
physicians determined to make some attempt to arouse 
her. The elder one left the selection of agents or modes 
of operation entii’ely to his younger colleague, as being 
fresher from his studies and more conversant with new 
methods in surgery and therapeutics. So Seaman decided 
to try the effects of the cold douche on the head, hoping 
by the sudden impulse given to the nervous and arterial 
systems to “ arouse the sensorium and awaken the cerebral 
mass and heart into action.” At least that was the way he 
expressed it to his senior. But although this was faith- 
fully tried as long as deemed safe or judicious, no result 
followed. Elsie was as lifeless, apparently, excepting the 
slight color in her cheeks, as the couch she lay on. Dr. 
Rand hinted at “firing,” but Seaman slirunk from such 
seemingly harsh measures except as a last resort, on ac- 
count of his uncle’s sensibility. In the aftemoon some 
other efforts were made to break the dread death-hke stu- 
por in which this hitherto \igorous young life was en- 
chained ; but all in vain — every effort proved futile. 

Regularly, morning and evening, Adolph came to the 
Hermitage with eager, questioning face, bringing the 
choicest flowers and ferns and mosses that were to be 
had in garden or field at that late season, for the fall was 
well advanced and winter near. It was a question among 
the observers as to which of the two, the Russian or the 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


453 


father, showed the wearing, depressing effects of this fear- 
ful ordeal most. Certainly, the mental strain was terrible 
in both cases. 

On the fourth day the condition was, to all outward ap- 
pearance, unchanged, except that a slight shrinking of the 
soft tissues, and a barely perceptible pinching of the feat- 
ures, might be observed, as if the exact balance between 
waste and repair were not maintained. The physicians re- 
fused to admit this, but the sharp eyes of love saw it, or 
felt it, and Mr. Hastings became correspondingly dejected. 
Everything known to medical science had been tried, even 
the “ firing,” although this was only known to those who 
conducted it. Skill seemed imbecile in the presence of 
this counterfeit death. 

“Mr. Hastings,” said Adolph, “father says, now that the 
doctors have failed, he would like to visit Miss Hastings. 
You know be was educated for a physician, and really he 
has remarkable skill in many ways. With your permission 
we will be here in this room at eight this evening, by a 
method you understand.” 

IVIi’. Hastings cordially agreed, and somehow for the rest of 
the day seemed more hopeful, although he could hardly say 
why. Oh, this hope deferred ! How long the day seemed ! 
How wearily dragged the hours until eight o’clock arrived ! 
Mr. Hastings entered the library just as the French clock 
on the mantel was striking the hour, and found the ex- 
pected guests awaiting him. Grasping the hand of the 
ancient Kussian fervently, for a moment his emotion choked 
his utterance. 

“ My son,” said the old man, laying his left hand sooth- 
ingly on the shoulder of the stricken parent, “ believe me, 
my heart is with you in this sad trial, and keeps pulse of 
hope or anxiety with yours. May I see the dear child ? ” 

“ Yes,” responded the other, regaining his seK-possession 
by an effort. “Your presence is indeed a comfort to me in 


454 


THE KUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


this the saddest hour of my life. She thought so highly of 
you. The doctors insist she is not dead ; but what can I 
think when for four days my child has lain without the 
slightest movement or sign of life — no breath, no pulse ? 
What more is death than that ? ” And here the heavily bur- 
dened heart could hold up no longer, but sinking into a 
chair, he covered his face with his hands and sobbed aloud. 

The ancient man sat dp\vn beside him. 

“ My dear friend, the word of the physicians should be 
accepted by you. They could not deceive you in such a 
matter. The visit of the dark angel is sometimes strangely 
simulated, and the counterfeit resemblance casts a shadow 
on the heart, when the real is nowise nigh the dwelling. 
Death has many brothers with strong family likeness, but 
to none of them does he intrust his well-filled quiver. 
Surely, I believe it is only a peaceful, harmless likeness of 
the dread monarch, and not the king himself, who has 
kissed the dear child into such absolute quietude.” 

“Thank you,” said the listening one, on whose bruised 
heart the words fell like balm, and rising, he passed his 
arm through that of the aged guest, and followed by Adolph, 
in obedience to a sign from Mr. Hastings, these three passed 
up-stairs, and into the presence of the unconscious maiden. 

Mrs, Wagram was in attendance, and so was Ellen, who 
came up as soon as Seaman informed her of the condition of 
Elsie, and had remained since, giving the watchful care of 
a loving sister. 

The father and Adolph halted a few feet from the bed, 
the latter covering his face, as if the first glance at that ir- 
responsive face had overpowered him. But the Patriarch 
advanced calmly to the bedside, and gazed earnestly at 
the recumbent figure, without moving, for two or three 
moments. Then stooping, he put his face very close to 
hers, at the same time laying his hand on hers, passively 
lying across her bosom. In a brief time he raised himself, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


455 


and said quietly, as if speaking to himself : “ ’Tis the ether 
of life, not of death, that enshrouds her, and the ‘ aura ’ is a 
vital one.” Then turning to the father and others in the 
room, he said, quietly, “Dear friends, ^yill you retire just 
outside the room, so that the power of one individuality 
may be concentrated upon our beloved one here, who sleeps 
so sweetly,” adding, as if in excuse for his request : “ The 
presence of many anxious hearts dissipates and diifuses 
force, and so tends to prolong and deepen, rather than re- 
lieve, the lethargy. One voice only can reach the inner 
chamber of the enthralled spirit and tell the slumberer 
that fond hearts need her presence in the outer life.” 

So saying, he looked toward his son, holding out his 
hand. Adolph gave him at once a little case which he car- 
ried, and then I’e tired, with the others, just outside the 
room, the two doors, leading the one into a dressing-room 
and the other into the hallway, remaining as they were, 
wide open. 

Eagerly they watched this ancient sage as, taking from 
the case a small instrument somewhat resembling the 
violin, he laid it upon the table near the bed, and then 
turned toward the sleeper. The eyes had remained widely 
open since the moment of the attack, but to shield them 
from the light and possible harm, the physicians had or- 
dered a piece of soft silk to be laid lightly over them. 
This the Patriarch now gently removed, and gazed directly 
for a full minute into the sightless orbs. Still fixing his 
gaze as before, he then placed his right hand on her fore- 
head and his left over her heart. Thus he stood for at least 
five moments, as immovable as the patient. Suddenly he 
lifted his gaze from the quiet face in the direction of the 
watching friends, until it rested upon his son. 

“ Father wishes us to stand a little farther back — our in- 
fluence is still felt,” said Adolph, in a whisper, moving, as 
he spoke, back into the other room and half closing the 


466 


THE RUSSIAN- REFUGEE. 


door, the others having moved with him, and the door 
leading into the passage was also half closed. 

Almost at once rose a strain of delicious music which 
greeted the ears of the listeners like a benediction. It gave 
them a feeling of ineffable peace, and filled them with hope, 
they knew not why. A melody sweet and soothing seemed 
to fill the air, now full and rich and satisfying, and then 
light and delicate as the zephyrs of the pines in the early 
summer days. It rose and fell in mellow cadences, swell- 
ing in supernal harmony, and filling the soul with con- 
solation and exceeding comfort, then soft and tender as 
the cooing of wild doves. Finally it came to the ear like a 
prayer — a very flood of beseeching rhythm and eloquent 
entreaty. The last strains seemed to sound the fitting 
amen, and then a deep silence fell on all. It was the hush 
of expectancy. 

No one there could have interpreted the thought and put 
it into words ; but one thought was there, and one only. 
Somehow, no one felt any shock of astonishment, but only 
that sense of deep peace and satisfaction which comes to 
us when faith is justified and trust is changed to sight, as the 
voice of the old man broke the silence, saying : “ Do you 
know me, my daughter ? ” 

A hardly perceptible pause to the painfully strained ears, 
and then — O Glory to God in the highest ! — “ Yes ; but 
where am I?” reached them in response. 

The voice was that which for four long days had been 
silent, and now every tone thrilled through the hearts of 
the listening ones as though ’twere the speech of one just 
from the invisible presence. 

Again the old man’s voice was heard in answer : “ You 
are safe at home, my child, and now you must yield to me 
and sleep for a while,” and here Ellen, who on hearing 
Elsie’s voice had started involuntarily forward a half-step 
into the room, stopping abruptly as a warning glance of 


THE RTJSSIAK REFUGEE. 


457 


the Patriarch met her, saw him make sundiy passes over 
the face of the still recumbent maiden. 

As he made the passes with the right hand, regarding 
her fixedly meanwhile, his other hand rested lightly on her 
pulse. Presently, looking toward Mrs, Seaman, he said, 
with a smiling face, in a low tone : ‘‘ She sleeps — come and 
sit by her until she wakes.” 

Then the aged man moved slowly into the adjoining room, 
where his son and Mr. Hastings were. 

‘^How is my child?” said the anxious parent, almost 
feverish with excitement. 

“ She lies in a natural slumber. The spell binding her 
vital forces is broken, and she will awake in health,” re- 
turned the venerable Kussian, in a voice which indicated 
great exhaustion. 

“ Father, you must lie down at once and be quiet. You 
are tired. May he rest on this lounge, Mr. Hastings ? ” 

“ Forgive my selfish thoughtlessness — certainly, lie here 
if you prefer it. You look tired. Mrs. Wagram, bring a 
pillow for this gentleman.” 

“Thanks, a thousand times ; this is what I prefer, as I 
should like to be near the dear child when she awakes. 
Now leave me alone for an hour, and then I shall be myself 
again.” 

Pressing his hand gratefully, Mr. Hastings retired, leav- 
ing Adolph with his father. 

Entering his daughter’s room softly, he noiselessly passed 
to the bedside, and saw a decided change for the better. A 
feeling of unspeakable gratitude welled up in his soul as he 
saw her lying naturally on the right side, having a healthy 
flush on the cheek, and breathing perceptibly and regularly. 
How different from the rigid death-like inertia in which he 
had last beheld her, this calm, healthful repose ! 

“Thank God !” he whispered, pressing Ellen’s hand, and 
then stole from the room. 


458 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


He was joined in a few moments by Adolph. 

“ Your dear father has again given me my child, I think. 
How can I thank you both ? ” and tears of grateful emotion 
stood in the eyes of the proprietor of the mansion. 

“ Hush, my dear sir — Heaven gives and takes. We are 
only too glad to be its humble instruments. My father 
loves Miss Elsie as a daughter ; but who knowing her loves 
her not ? ” returned the younger man, with heightened 
color. 

Just then Dr. Seaman entered, saying, eagerly : “ Any 
change ? ” and then, catching a glimpse of Mr. Hastings’ 
hopeful face, exclaimed : “ She is better, is she not ? — she 
has come to ? ” 

Yes ; she emerged from that awful state of rigidity and 
seeming death about ten minutes since,” answered his 
uncle, 

“ Thank Heaven for that. But how is her mind — I mean 
her condition ? Is she rational ? ” 

“ She is in a natural slumber, and the Mend through 
whose agency this great relief has come requests that she 
shall not be disturbed until she spontaneously awakens. ” 
And the gentleman then narrated the event of the evening 
from the arrival of the Patriarch. 

The nephew listened with much interest. 

“ These cases are beyond us, I frankly own, and it is 
always problematical as to the methods by which the slug- 
gish sensorium can be roused into action. However, this is 
good news indeed. Where is Ellen ? ” 

“Up-stairs with Elsie, watching until she awakes.” 

“ How is your shoulder, Mr. Adolph ? ” 

“ Almost well ; at least, I do not notice it,” returned that 
gentleman, smiling. “We hunters don’t think much of a 
scratch or so.” 

“ You must be very vigorous to be able to consider that 
a scratch. But won’t you introduce me to your father be- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 459 

fore I leave ; I am very anxious to meet him, and he is of 
my profession, too.” 

Before Adolph could answer the aged Kussian entered 
the room, and taking Mr. Hastings by the hand, said : “I 
have just come from the dear child and think it is better to 
let her rest until morning. So just let someone remain with 
her while she sleeps.” 

‘‘ Father, this is ]VIiss Elsie’s cousin. Dr. Seaman,” said the 
younger Kussian. 

The sage clasped the extended hand. 

“ A noble profession yours, my son. May you worthily 
fulfil its duties.” 

Seaman regarded this man of one hundred and twenty 
years with the liveliest professional interest. 

“ You too, sir, are, I understand, a disciple of the healing 
art, and have succeeded up-stairs where we signally failed.” 

“ Success and failure are only relative terms, my young 
friend ; no true soul wholly fails, and none are successful 
single-handed. A long hfe has given me wide experience, 
and a careful study of the phenomena of life has taught 
me some of the secret laws by which nature controls and 
governs. In the case of the dear daughter up-stairs, I 
have merely followed in the line of nature’s workings, and 
she has crowned my humble efforts with success. She de- 
mands a rigid obedience, but that yielded, her disciples 
may demand almost anything at her hands.” 

“ Tmst me, I do not ask through idle curiosity, but 
would you mind giving me some clew to the means you 
adopted in this case ? ” said the physician with a frank ear- 
nestness which seemed to please the ancient guest, who 
quietly answered : 

“ Every human being has some point of susceptibility in 
his or her nature which, under peculiar conditions that 
may render all else ineH and passive, remains alert and ac- 
tive and liable to impression from external sources. For 


460 


THE KUSSIAN JIEFUOEE. 


convenience, let us term this the curve of sensibility, 
coming nearer the surface of the individuality, even as in 
the delicate integument covering the ends of the fingers or 
the lips some loops of exquisitely sensitive nerve-tissue are 
much nearer the surface than others, and so give earliest 
warning of what the parts may come in contact with. To 
treat successfully such a case as that of your cousin, it was 
necessary to know these curves of pecuHar sensibility, and 
then seek appropriately to impress them. A violent shock 
experienced by her some months ago, and the phenomena 
attending her restoration, revealed to me such a point, and 
put me in possession of a key by which I hoped to unlock 
the mystery of her lethargic condition. The result, as you 
know, has fully justified my judgment. I hope to enjoy 
fui’ther conversation with you shortly, but I would suggest 
that you now visit the dear patient, and convince yourself 
of her safe condition, without awakening her.” So saying, 
the old man cordially pressed the physician’s hand, and he 
at once sought his cousin’s chamber. 

On returning, ten minutes later, he found his uncle alone, 
the two Kussians having left the house. To his nephew’s 
eager questioning Mr. Hastings returned such evasive re- 
plies that the other smiled, sajdng, “ I understand — the old 
mystery of last spring. Well, he is a royal old gentleman, 
and no impertinent curiosity of mine shall annoy him.” 

“ But, Warren, what do you think of Elsie now ? ” in- 
quired the father, a little anxiously, for the tension of the 
last few days had been so great that he could hardly as 
yet relax his anxiety as to the ultimate result. 

‘'Doing nicely, uncle. I do not think you heed have 
any fear whatever. Her skin is cool and moist, and the 
breathing easy and natural. She will probably wake up in 
a few hours feeling weak and hungry, and then give her 
some bland, simple food.” 

“ Cannot you remain with us to-night ? It is now past 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


461 


eleven o’clock, and your wife being here you have nothing 
to call you home, Warren, have you ? ” 

“ Impossible, my dear uncle. I must be in my office, for 
I have a Case which may send for me at any moment, but 
I will be here in the morning bright and early. See that 
Ellen gets some sleep, will you, as she cannot safely sit up 
all night.” So saying, the doctor with all the responsibility 
of an onerous and exacting profession upon him, left, and 
presently his cab wheels were heard grinding the gravel as 
he drove rapidly down the avenue. 

The medical profession is indeed a slavish one, and the 
conscientious, general practitioner can rarely call an hour 
his own. His bills sometimes, to the unthinking, appear 
large, but in most cases they do not anything like represent 
the same return for labor and anxiety that law, commerce, 
and many other occupations receive. A conscientious 
medical man who has carefully prepared himself for his 
work, and then faithfully pursues it without fear or favor, 
has no superior among the world’s workers, and deserves 
well of his race. 


CHAPTER XXXVm. 


THE AVENGER. 

Elsie slept soundly until about four o’clock, and then 
awoke and asked for a drink. Acting according to directions, 
she was given a glass of milk, which she drank with appar- 
ent relish, and opened her eyes for a moment, but without 
speaking sank again into a quiet slumber. At six she 
again awakened, and after taking another cup of milk, ex- 
pressed herself as feeling well and asked for her father. 
In a moment he was beside her. 

“ Oh, father,” she said, fondly takinjg his hand and kiss- 
ing it, ‘‘I seemed to have been ever so far away, and could 
not make you hear me. But the music came to me and 
brought me back. I have been in the cave, haven’t I ? But 
where is the Patriarch? Why, I saw him only a little 
while ago ! ” 

“ Yes, my dear, he was here only a short time since. 
How are you feeling ? Do you suffer any pain ? ” 

“No, not pain exactly, but I feel so stiff when I try to 
move. But where have I been ? Oh, I remember, I was in 
the woods. But things seem confused after that,” and 
here she looked so troubled that her father anxiously tried 
to change the current of her thoughts by asking if she did 
not wish some breakfast. She did not seem to understand 
him, but looked anxious about something, and suddenly 
drawing her father down, threw her arm round his neck, 
and whispered ; “ Is everybody safe— the Exile and— and 
Mr. Adolph?” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


463 


“Yes, my dear,” responded her parent, not noticing her 
heightened color. “ They have done so much for us, both 
of them. But you must rest quiet now and not talk any 
more until you have eaten something.” 

She relaxed her clasp and sank back on the pillow, clos- 
ing her eyes languidly. 

In a short time Mrs, Wagram brought in a light break- 
fast, which the patient ate with relish, and then wanted to 
rise, saying she felt as well as usual. She was finally per- 
suaded to remain as she was until the doctor arrived. 

Seaman soon appeared, and after a critical examination, 
declared himself dehghted with her condition, and gave 
permission for her being dressed in a loose wrapper, and 
placed in an arm-chair by the window. He found that 
Elsie had a very confused and fragmentary memory of what 
had led to her illness, and had been most of the time un- 
conscious, or at least only occasionally sensible of hearing 
voices afar off, which she only partially recognized. 

“ My recollection after the woods is not clear,” she said, 
“ but I think it will clear up after a while.” 

After breakfast IMrs. Wagram asked an interview with 
Mr. Hastings in the hbrary, which he willingly granted, as 
there were many points in connection with past events 
which were very obscure to him, and which he was led to 
believe she could explain. 

“ You must have thought my conduct lately as being very 
strange indeed,” she began, hesitatingly. 

“ Well,” said the gentleman, gravely, “ we have been so 
surrounded by mysteries recently that nothing seems to fol- 
low the usual channels. I shall be glad if you can throw 
any light on matters, Mrs. Wagram.” 

Her dark eyes flashed with suppressed excitement, and 
the color showed through the deep olive of her cheek, as 
she went on with nervous abruptness. “ So long as Miss 
Elsie was in danger I thought it best to keep quiet, but now 


464 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


it is right to speak. You remember that English detective 
who called here first some months ago ? ” 

]\.L\ Hastings nodded assent, and a cloud darkened his 
brow at the recollection. His companion quickly noticed 
his expression. 

“You doubted him, and connected him in your mind 
with the robbery ? ” she asked, and again he bowed his head 
assentingly. “You were wrong. That man was j ust what he 
claimed to be, and I have the proofs ; but of that further on. 
You perhaps also recollect the second man who called, rep- 
resenting himself also as a detective, and the partner of the 
other ? That was the bogus one, the real deceiver, and it 
was on the information obtained by him that morning that 
the robbery was committed.” 

“Is it possible that you know this, Mrs. Wagram — and 
you speak confidently? But proceed.” 

“How I know it wiU appear later on, but believe me, 
Mr. Hastings, it is a knowledge which has cost me much. 
However, when I found out that it was on the information 
skilfully dravm from me, and in consequence of my absent- 
ing myself, that the robbeiy was committed, I resolved, with 
all a woman’s determination, to right the wrong, so far as 
in me lay, and if possible, bring the thief to justice. Your 
nephew Esmond arrived shortly afterward, and do not con- 
demn me if I say I hated him from the moment I laid eyes 
on him. My instinct, if I may so term it, told me he was bad, 
and wild as it may sound to you, I suspected him of being 
in some way connected with the burglary. You look aston- 
ished, and no wonder, but I watched him as a cat would a 
mouse, and finally I found a thread, which, following, put 
me in possession of facts in the double life he was leading, 
inciting me to redoubled vigilance. I shadowed him, and 
so skilfully that he did not suspect me. How should he, 
indeed? It was not likely that he should suspect the 
plainly-dressed young man that so often came across his 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


465 


path by accident, to be Mr. Hastings’ housekeeper.” Here 
the Frenchwoman laughed gleefully, as if she enjoyed the 
remembrance of her adventures. “ Forgive me, Mr. Has- 
tings, but the memory of how I checkmated that bad young 
man is very pleasant to me. But let me explain. My hus- 
band was a detective, and he trained me to help him, and 
many a time I have accompanied him, dressed in a suit of 
his clothes, on very dangerous expeditions. I was consid- 
ered the best female detective in New York up to the time 
of my husband’s death. When he was taken from me I 
gave up the work and accepted my present position with 
you. So you see it was very easy indeed for me to play 
the part I have done recently. But I must hasten with my 
story. When the attempt was made to swindle you out of 
your property I became aware of the< conspiracy, and knew 
the guilty parties, but failing to obtain all the necessary 
links of evidence, could do nothing to hinder the trial ; but 
when by the testimony of that old man you triumphed over 
your enemies, then I saw my opportunity. The old pre- 
tender personating Liscomb, I was satisfied was only a weak 
tool in the hands of a sharper knave, and I felt confident 
that eventually I could induce him to confess. His supe- 
rior, suspecting something of the kind, made a desperate at- 
tempt to free him, and would have succeeded, but that I 
discovered the plot. I laid my plans so that I could arrest 
them both after leaving the prison. How I succeeded you 
know.” 

Then you believe my nephew to have originated the 
plot to rob me of the Hermitage ? ” interrupted Mr. Hast- 
ings. 

“ Yes ; and now all the proofs are in my hands. His ac- 
complice has confessed, has turned states evidence, and 
swears that he was cajoled and bribed into the part he 
has taken. He held out stubbornly, but finally I found a 
means of overcoming his scruples, and Harry Esmond 
30 


466 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE, 


stands as a con\icted swindler and forger, as I know him 
to be a burglai’.” 

The Frenchwoman spoke the latter sentences with a vin- 
dictiveness and ill-concealed triumph which fairly startled 
her hearer, who felt how different in resolution and ag- 
gressiveness was this woman, from the quiet, unassuming 
person she had always seemed in his household. He half 
shrank from one who could pursue a fellow-creature with 
such tireless energy for the sole pui’pose of vengeance. 
She seemed to divine something of his feehng, and smiled 
satirically as she remarked : I am afraid you think me very 
cruel and unwomanly, and not fit, perhaps, to be any longer 
a member of your household. Be it so, I expected this. But 
much as I shall regret leaving you and Miss Elsie, yet I 
would pay the penalty ten-fold to be able to expose and 
punish the arch villain who made a weak tool of me, to 
further his bad purposes.” 

Many persons will forgive anything sooner than wounded 
self-esteem. Stab them there, and you arouse their worst 
passions and incur their deadly hatred. Mrs. Wagram was 
one of these, and she would have gone through flames to 
obtain satisfaction on an enemy who had so wounded her. 

‘‘ There is much to excuse your bitter feeling toward 
that dissolute and criminal young man, but pray go on with 
this strange history. I fear I have not heard the worst,” 
said Mr. Hastings, quietly. 

She continued: “He secured your deed from Mr. 
Whitely and altered it to suit his purposes, as shown at the 
trial, and now sworn to by his dupe and tool, Liscomb. 
But he is a professional gambler as well, and I have good 
reason to believe has robbed, by his skill in this way, Mr. 
Boland St. Johns of large sums. You little suspected too, 
when that English detective called on you, that he was in 
pursuit of your own nephew for a forgery committed in 
London a year ago, but such was the case, and that is the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


467 


principal charge against him now, and will result probably 
in his extradition and a taste of English justice. One more 
point in the history of crime,” and here for the first time 
since beginning her narrative Mrs. Wagram hesitated, and 
showed a disinclination to proceed. 

“ Why do you hesitate — let me know aU ? ” said her 
hearer. / 

“ Yes, it is right you should know all,” she said, and re- 
sumed her former manner. “Well, then, when this young 
man foimd himself foiled and about to feel the fangs of the 
law he had so long outraged, he determined on a last su- 
preme attempt to retrieve his position. He resolved to se- 
cure bail by one means or another, and once free, compel his 
cousin to marry him, even if he had to cany her off by 
force.” 

She paused, appalled by the look which had come into her 
companion’s face. 

“ Go on,” he said, hoarsely. 

“Yes, he obtained bail, and then planned the abduction 
of your child. Again he was foiled. You know the rest.” 

The father covered his face with his hands for a mo- 
ment, and then looking up with a countenance livid with con- 
flicting emotions, said, in a choking voice, that sounded 
strange and unnatiu'al to his hearer : “ God may forgive 
him, but I never will.” 

Both were silent for a brief space, and naught could be 
heard but the ticking of the mantel clock, and the deep 
breathing of the Frenchwoman, who had spoken vehemently 
and was somewhat excited. Yes, a good deal excited, but 
outwardly comparatively calm. For this explanation was 
the culmination of long months of plotting and planning 
and scheming which had made her life a whirl and a dis- 
traction. Had it been an ordinary bit of detective work for 
wages, such as she had done again and again years ago, it 
would have been so different, But this was a personal mat- 


468 


THE RUSSIAN REFUaEE. 


ter, in which all her deeper feelings were enlisted, and which 
indeed in a sense would determine her future. Now that 
her confession was made, although the exciting sense of a 
complete triumph was hers, yet she felt sick and weary, and 
the natural physical and mental reaction from the severe 
strain to which she had been subjected, began to tell upon 
her. Mr. Hastings divined something of this, and rising, he 
tookher hand, saying kindly : “ This is neither the time, nor 
perhaps the place, to express the deep sense of obligation for 
what you have done for us. Believe me, I am not ungrate- 
ful, but you are not well, and must retire to your room and 
rest, or else after the terrible experience you have had, 
serious results to your health may follow.” 

She seemed much gratified at his words, and simply re- 
sponding, in a feeble voice, “ Thank you, I am not feeling 
very bright, she handed him a package of papers, and left 
the room. 

The papers proved to be carefully kept notes of the suc- 
cessive steps she had taken while shadowing Esmond, and 
also the confession which Liscomb had made and which 
was duly signed by him. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


. THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR ! 

The Hermitage was once more at rest, and the inmates 
pursuing again the ordinary paths of life. Elsie had con- 
valesced rapidly, and at the end of a week was seemingly as 
well as ever. Her memory seemed to be a blank from the 
moment of springing from the carriage, to the instant when 
her ej^es rested on the Patriarch’s face, as with seductive 
melody he had wooed her -back to conscious life and all 
that that expressed to her affectionate heart. Twice had 
the aged man been to see her since, and altogether these 
ten days had passed very pleasantly in spite of the sad 
thoughts which would obtrude concerning her cousin. 
She felt that he was lost to them forever, and must pay the 
penalty his conduct had earned. And yet she had a tender 
regret for her childhood’s companion, and even now would 
try and help him, had it been possible. Once during these 
ten days he had written to her, imploring a word of for- 
jgiveness, if she still lived — for he had been purposely kept 
in ignorance of her recoveiy — cursing his mad folly for 
what he had done, promising, if she only lived, and forgave 
him, to give the. rest of his life in expiation of his crime 
against her. 

“ I love you, and you only in the world, Elsie, and would 
cheerfully sink the rest of the race to hell to save you,” he 
wrote, in the bitterness of his self-accusations. 

She handed the strange epistle to her father with some 
tears, and asked him to answer it, and, as a last favor to the 
unhappy culprit, tell him she was well again. 


470 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Mr. Hastings wrote a curt, sharp note, simply stating, 
that in spite of his infamous attempt, his child had come 
up from the borders of the grave, but should never see 
him more. “You are an outlaw, and must meet the fate of 
outlaws, now that justice has you safely in its clutches. I 
suppose I should express gratitude for the exception you 
make in favor of my daughter, when you speak of consign- 
ing all the rest of us to perdition, but I thank you not. 
Your crime toward her proves the utter baseness of your 
soul, and the hopelessness of reforming you. My only hope 
is that never again may you have the liberty to injure your 
fellows.” 

Mr. Hastings subsequently coincided with Mr. St. Johns 
and the local authorities, that as the charges against Es- 
mond in England were sufficient, supported as they were 
by ample evidence, to insure him penal servitude for many 
years, it would be better to avoid publicity, considering 
his relation to the Hastings’ family, and not to press the 
home prosecution. 

“ My advice would be,” said the lawyer, “ to allow his 
extradition, and hold the charges for conspiracy, abduction, 
etc., as a continual menace against him, in case he should 
ever attempt to return here.” 

So it was decided, and the prisoner so informed. The 
culprit manifested some relief at the announcement, not 
wholly unalloyed, however, as he intimated that he pre- 
ferred American to English law, of which latter he seemed 
to entertain a wholesome dread. However, the information 
of his cousin’s recovery seemed to give him such joy, that 
his naturally gay, careless manner, wffiich had utterly de- 
serted him during the suspense he had been in regarding 
her fate, returned, and such petty matters as trial, impris- 
onment, and criminal charges seemed to be entirely for- 
gotten. 

The one redeeming point in this singularly hardened 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


471 


character seemed to be a devoted attachment to his cousin, 
strange and grossly selfish as had been his manifestation of 
it. Perhaps, after all, as one sings, “In the worst there’s 
some spark of a nature divine.” Harry Esmond dropped 
out of the life of the Hermitage family almost as suddenly 
as he had entered it a few months previously, but life to 
one member at least was a shade darker forever after, than 
it had been before. Why is it that so many fitted by nat- 
ure to adorn and bless the world, selfishly choose to curse 
it, and leave the trail of the serpent ” wherever they go ? 

Arthur Liscomb, for there seemed no doubt but that the 
claimant to the Hermitage estate was really the son of the 
notary, when brought to trial, confessed that he had been 
the weak dupe of Esmond, who, meeting him in the mining 
regions of Australia, and ascertaining who he was, devised 
the plot to deprive Mr. Hastings of his property. The ac- 
complished gamester, forger, and burglar, for he was either 
according to opportunity or inclination, soon initiated the 
weak and rather dissipated Liscomb — who had led a roving, 
dissolute sort of existence, and now in advanced life was 
ready for anything which promised money to satisfy his 
wants — into the crooked path of crime, until he had ac- 
quired a complete mastery over him. After maturing the 
details of the plot, which involved obtaining first sufficient 
funds to carry out the enterprise, and secondly, securing 
the deed to the estate, which he knew his uncle kept in a 
particular drawer at the Hermitage, Esmond set sail for 
America by way of England. In the latter country he ex- 
pected to “write” himself into funds sufficient to replenish 
his almost exhausted exchequer. Having unbounded con- 
fidence in his own ability and adroitness, he entertained 
no doubt of being able to bring matters to such a pass, 
that his cousin would marry him to save the homestead to 
her father. It was apparently a rather wild dream, but his 
fertility of invention, and latent power of resources, had, he 


472 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


argued to himself, never yet failed him, at least since his 
manhood. In London, by means of a skilfully forged let- 
ter and draft, he succeeded in victimizing a wholesale 
house, having large dealings with a Melbourne firm, to the 
amount of five hundred pounds. With this sum, supple- 
mented by the winnings of a few games of poker, he was 
on his way to Liverpool en route for the United States, 
when accident placed him in the same compartment with 
Seaman, who became very unpleasantly impressed by his 
action and manner in a little incident which occurred on 
the trip. Esmond was thoroughly disguised, but the voice 
and eyes were indelibly fixed in the doctor’s memoiy, 
hence the impleasant scene of their meeting at the Her- 
mitage. 

“ I was certain I had met him before, and under unpleas- 
ant circumstances. And to think we have the same blood 
in our veins. I feel like bleeding myself to syncope, if it 
would help matters. I hope you are not ashamed of your 
husband, darling ? ” Seaman said to his wife. 

Her answer of course satisfied him on that ground, but 
it was some time before the physician could reconcile him- 
self to the fact of the obnoxious relationship. 


CHAPTER XL. 


REVELATIONS. 

My Dearest Elsie : How joyous I feel to hear that you are 
yourself again. I did not know of your terrible illness until yester- 
day. What an awful thing it was. But how did it happen ? I have 
not yet heard. Isn’t it dreadful about Mr. Esmond ? Oh, I can 
hardly hold my pen when I think of how he has swindled poor 
Roland. Why, he trusted him like a brother. I am choked with 
indignation to think how he won large sums of money from him. 
Quite all his pocket money, I feel sure ; Roland has hinted as much. 
Poor boy, he does feel so bad. But I will make it up to him when 
I sell my mining stock. I didn't tell you I bought a number of 
shares in a valuable mine in Australia, from which we expect great 
things. I made each of the girls buy some shares, and it has taken 
all we could scrape up in any way to pay the assessments. But Ro- 
land told me that his friend from whom or through whom he pur- 
chased our shares said that all mines cost at first, and then pay by 
handfuls. But I must find out more about the matter from Roland, 
and the name of the agent ; I shall insist on knowing that at once. 
Perhaps you would like to buy a few shares ; if so I think I might 
get some, though I understand there are none on the market now. 
Now, write to me, my dear, and tell me all about your shocking ex- 
perience. 

Yours, with a loving kiss, 

Amelia St. Johns. 

Elsie turned pale on reading this letter, and felt for a 
moment really sick at heart, as a suspicion would keep 
forcing itself upon her concerning this mining stock of 
which her correspondent spoke so hopefully. 

“If Esmond should be the friend through whom Roland 
purchased it ! ”‘she said aloud ; “ and, oh ! I fear he is. But 


474 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


this matter must be investigated at once. I must write to 
Eoland now and ask him to call, and I think he will not re- 
fuse me the truth.” 

But she was saved the trouble of writing, for a ring at 
the door told of a visitor which proved to be the gentleman 
in question. 

“I took a run up to see poor Esmond,” he said, “and 
could not resist coming to see you, especially since you 
have recovered from that serious illness, of which I did not 
hear until I saw Esmond. ” 

Elsie saw by his manner and haggard appearance that 
his visit to the convict cousin had been far from satisfac- 
tory, but that as yet he did not suspect the gravity of her 
relative’s misdeeds. She felt that she must take upon her- 
self the unpleasant task of opening the eyes of this deluded 
young man, and also ascertain from him how far her cousin 
was implicated in the mining swindle, for swindle she felt 
confident it was. So adroitly had Esmond handled his 
dupe that even the fact of the former being in prison had 
not awak4tied the other to his real character. Eoland had 
been told some specious stoiy and seemingly believed it, or 
else shrank from knowing the real state of the case, Elsie 
could not determine which. She mentioned the letter re- 
ceived from his mother, and then asked him frankly if Es- 
mond was not the agent from whom he had purchased the 
mining stock. He turned pale and red by turns, and stam- 
mered so in an attempted evasion, that she had no longer 
any doubt and insisted on knowing the circumstances. 

“ If you do not tell me, I shall write at once to your 
mother and tell her plainly what I am convinced is the 
truth, and then you must answer her. Which do you 
prefer ? ” 

This had the desired effect, and he falteringly acknowl- 
edged that her suspicions were correct, but insisted stren- 
uously that the stock was good, worth every dollar that 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


475 


had been paid for it. What should she say, how undeceive 
this infatuated young man ? 

“ You have been steadil}' deceived by my cousin from 
the beginning in everything else, and why should you sup- 
pose he has kept faith in this matter ? I see I must be 
very candid with you, and must speak of matters which I 
would fain keep locked up in the silence of my own bitter 
memories of that unfortunate man. You thought him sin- 
cere when he encouraged you to propose marriage to me 
and press your suit after I told you such a thing was im- 
possible.” Her hearer regarded her with dilated pupils 
and seemed to tremble with a fear of what would come 
next. She went on, although her voice sounded strangely 
to his ears, and even his perturbed state did not prevent 
his seeing what an effort the statement cost her. “You 
little knew that he was urging his suit with me at that 
very time.” 

Roland started as if shot. 

“ It cannot be. The double-dyed villain ! ” he exclaimed, 
and then sinking on the sofa near him, cried like a child. 

No need to say more. It was all clear as day now, and 
the reaction was terrible even to so weak a nature as his. 
He went to the other extreme, and, in his agony, remorse, 
and wild indignation told things that Elsie would fain have 
been spared the hearing of. He begged that she would 
make his peace with his mother or he could never face the 
home circle again. Indeed, he vowed he would shoot him- 
self rather than see his parents again. Then his mood 
changed and a wild desire for vengeance took possession of 
him. As said before, he was no coward physically, and had 
he encountered Esmond in this state of mind, the Australian 
would have required all his prowess to have saved himself. 

“ Did he dare to propose marriage to you ? ” he de- 
manded, wildly. “ You are not trying me ? ” and he looked 
utterly miserable. No affectation, no lisping speech, no 


476 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


foppery now. He seemed transformed by the varying pas- 
sions of remorse, anger, and shame, which together raged 
within him and alternately gained the ascendency. But 
the pitiful position which his folly had placed him in re- 
garding the mine swindle^ — for Elsie’s words had swept 
away any doubts, if he really had entertained them, as to 
the nature of this transaction — dominated every other 
feeling, and covering his face with his hands, he groaned 
aloud ; “ How can I tell my mother, my poor mother, and 
she trusted me so ! I am lost, lost, lost f” 

Some natures as strong as the deeply affected spectator 
to his distress might have felt a certain measure of justifi- 
able contempt for the weakness displayed by one who had 
hitherto borne himself in such a self-confident manner, but 
Elsie’s strength of character was so blended with and 
toned by such full sympathy for suffering, no matter how 
deserved, that the idea of reproach, even indirectly, was 
quite foreign to her present condition of mind. She was 
well aware that the bitter agony of remorse, the keen sense 
of disgrace, the degrading position in which the reckless 
young man found himself, were all the natural outcome of 
wrong-doing, the just retribution following on the abandon- 
ment of the path of strict integrity. Crossing the room 
she took a seat beside the stricken man, and in a low tone 
said : “ Boland, when one has done wrong, and injured 
others, regret and remorse are natural, but there is no 
reason to despair. Let us look the matter squarely in the 
face and see what is best to be done. I am too near your 
own age to be able to advise you, perhaps, but we women 
have instincts or intuitions in matters, which often serve 
us in place of larger experience. Let us talk the matter 
over frankly, and try and decide how you had best act 
under the circumstances.” 

Her words seemed to reassure him, and he looked up 
gratefully. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


477 


“ What a fool, dolt, idiot I have been all along, to trust 
that scoundrel so implicitly,” he said, in a choked voice. 
“ But he led me along so cunningly, and made my affection 
for you the means of influencing me to follow his wishes. 
Oh ! if I could only kill him, and then shoot myself ! ” 

“ Hush, Boland, that is not right ; and the wrong is not 
all on one side, remember. No one can make us do wrong 
against our own volition.” 

“ Elsie, don’t misunderstand me. I don’t excuse myself ; 
I know I have been a weak fool, but he had seen more of 
the world, and was a great deal older in experience, and I 
was so blind and conceited as not to see it.” 

“ Perhaps if this distress opens your eyes to your real 
defects of character it will not be too great a price to pay 
for such knowledge. But now let us speak of what is best 
to be done.” 

The Roland who left the Hermitage an hour later was a 
veiy different looking and feeling individual from him who 
had entered it. Then bright, cheerful, self-complacent, and 
somewhat disdainful in his bearing toward inferiors ; now 
sad, downcast, and woe-begone, and so deferential to the 
servant that showed him out, that the girl hardly knew what 
to make of it, but with the perspicacity of her sex was not 
long in divining a cause. 

“ Poor young feller, I guess missus has given you the 
mitten this morning,” she said to herself, for the attach- 
ment of young St. Johns to the heiress of the Hermitage 
was an “ open secret ” in the household. 

It had been agreed between them that Elsie was to write 
to Mrs. St. Johns and explain, as gently as possible, the 
true value of the mining stock. It was indeed a task from 
which she shrank, but her sense of duty and right impera- 
tively demanded the sacrifice of her own feelings in the 
matter, and she at once set to the task. As delicately and 
skilfully as possible she drew aside the veil that criminal 


478 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


weakness and unscrupulousness, aided and furthered by an 
overwhelming desii’e for unreasonable gain on the part of 
the lady herself, had woven to conceal the hideous, naked 
facts. She began in direct response to Mrs. St. Johns’ sug- 
gestion that she should purchase some shares, by saying 
that she could not help regarding such speculations as un- 
wise in most instances, and apt to bring about in the mind 
of the speculators a condition akin to the gambling fever. 
Asking pardon for such frankness, she urged in extenua- 
tion the fact that in nine out of ten cases the facts went 
to show that these mining schemes were a swindle, and 
suggested the promoters of them had invariably one object 
— to fleece the shareholders. “I have heard father say 
that of the number that have in one way or another been 
obtruded on his notice only one was conducted with any 
degree of honesty, and in that one instance, although the 
stockholders at first made some money, the assessments 
for new and unnecessary machinery, and other expendi- 
tures, came in so fast that the smaller holders, the posses- 
sors of only a few shares, were unable or unwilling to 
stand the constant drain, and so were grad-lSially ‘frozen 
out,’ that is, compelled to sell, and the schemers after, by 
this means, managing to get control of all the stock, then 
developed the mine, which proved to be really valuable, 
and so made a fortune.” 

Thus quoting her father, she gradually led up to the 
dreaded revelation, trying as she best could to soften what 
would necessarily be a severe blow. The loss of the money 
was only a trifle, she felt, compared to a mother losing con- 
fidence in a son that she fairly idolized, and in whose in- 
tegrity and adroitness and business capacity she had 
unlimited confidence. On a woman of Mrs. St. Johns’ pas- 
sionate and unreasoning nature, Elsie knew the effect of 
exposing the deplorable weakness, duplicity, and cruel in- 
gratitude of a loved and trusted son would be serious in- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


479 


deed. Weak people bear such shocks badly, having no 
latent strength, no genuine moral principle to temper and 
modify the blow. Elsie shivered on the brink of this 
inevitable revelation to the egotistic but fond, trusting 
mother, as a swimmer pauses and hesitates, trembling on 
the bank, ere plunging into the icy waters, when compelled 
to cross a river in the early spring. But the courage 
brought by resolute will to the point, in he leaps, and in 
battling with the rude waters, the chill he dreaded but 
serves as a stimulus to more vigorous effort, and he finds a 
power and increasing energy coming to him in proportion 
to the perils and difficulties he has to encounter. Thus 
IVIiss Hastings found power and ability in writing this much- 
feai’ed letter, so that she was able to deftly expose the great 
wrong, not to call it by a harsher name, of which her friend 
was the victim without unnecessarily wounding the mother 
through the son. She read it over carefully and was her- 
self surprised and gratified at the felicity of expression and 
happy choice of phrase in which she had been able to say 
what was in her heart without giving one more pang than 
was unavoidable to this hitherto unsuspecting, deluded 
lady. It had been the hardest and least congenial task of 
her life to write that letter, and she felt as if somehow she 
had been helped to accomplish it by some occult influence, 
some good spmt who had responded to her unbreathed 
prayer for help ; for Elsie, like many other earnest, con- 
scientious children of humanity, felt frequently as if unseen 
agencies acted for and with her to help her for good. And 
does not some such feeling or impression form the basis of 
religion? Is it not indeed the very soul and essential 
quality of what is called by some the religious instinct f 


CHAPTEE XU. 


A NEW PATIENT. 

Dr. Seaman had a new patient. Gretchen was sick. The 
fat, jolly, even-tempered woman was very ill indeed, and re- 
quired the physician’s most watchful attendance. It proved 
to be a case of typhoid fever. Poor Hans was almost wild 
with anxiety about his mother, and often trudged the two 
miles or so between the doctor’s house and the little cottage 
to urge the physician to hasten his visit. Careless as he had 
been about vexing her by his indulgence in schnapps while 
she was well, now, when there was a possibility that she 
might be lost to him, his gTief knew no bounds. 

Oh, Dr. Seaman, you must please save mine mudder ; 
she is mine only mudder, you see, an’ I can’t live without 
her,” said the poor fellow on one of these visits, wringing 
his hands in agony. 

As for Hiram, he smoked his pipe as usual, looked con- 
templative, and altogether bore the matter like a philoso- 
pher. 

“ It’s me private ’pinion,” he sententiously remarked to 
Warren when the disease seemed to be steadily gaining on 
the patient, and poor Gretchen’s life to hang indeed in the 
balance, “ thet the ole woman’ll weather the gale, cos, as 
you say, the fever is a-gaining rapidly. Naow, Gretchen is, 
in my mind, too fat to go very fast, and so in the natur’ of 
things thet fever’ll get the worst of it. Sure’s you live, it’ll 
hev to leave her behind, doctor, for you never could hurry 
up Gretchen a peg ; she’ll go so fast, an’ no faster. Gretch- 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


481 


en’s the smartest woman to go slow of anyone in these dig- 
gin’s,” and the trapper looked comically at the medical man, 
as he spoke, at the same time shaking his head in a satis- 
fied sort of way. 

However, in spite of his philosophic bearing, WaiTen 
knew that beneath the rugged exterior there was a very 
warm feeling for the sick woman, and that no sacrifice of 
personal comfort would be deemed too great to give her 
aid or relief. 

The “ Giraffe ” was fairly tireless, and never seemed to 
rest, but was always on the alert to do anything the medi- 
cal man required. 

Elsie, on the first intimation of the sickness, had hastened 
to the cottage, and contributed much to the comfort of the 
patient by her womanly tact and ability to make the sick- 
room cheerful and wholesome. Hiram was quite satisfied 
when she was near. 

“ Somebody’s always got to be sick, you see. Miss Elsie, 
an’ I reckon’t mought as well be Gretchen as the next one ; 
leastwise, she’s the one this time anyhow, an’ you got your 
turn a while back. Guess it’s all right.” 

And so the weary days of the fever went by, kind hearts 
prompting, kind hands doing for the sick one all that 
was possible. Elsie rarely failed in seeing the suflerer 
once a day, and sometimes twice, taking usually some tri- 
fling thing which she thought might be needed or accept- 
able. 

It was in the second week of the sickness, when just as 
she reached the clump of cedars near the trapper’s home, 
walking as she often did when the weather was favorable 
and roads fairly good, she heard her name softly pronounced, 
and turning quickly, met the earnest gaze of the younger 
Eussian. She colored with pleasure, and held out her 
hand. Eagerly he grasped it. 

“ Miss Hastings, I need not say how delighted I am to 
31 


482 


THE BUSSIAX REFUGEE. 


meet you again ; to meet you, too, on a mission of kind- 
ness to my old friend Gretchen.” 

As he spoke he held her hand in a warm grasp, almost un- 
consciously retaining it, so pleased did he seem to see her. 

“Where have you been hiding yourself, Mr. Adolph? 
Your friends have been in despair about you, thinking per- 
haps you had forgotten them,” she rejoined, half earnestly, 
half gayly. 

“ Forgotten you ! ” And here he bent his eyes so earnestly 
upon her that involuntarily she looked down for a moment, 
and to her secret annoyance felt her face suffused with the 
warm, rich blush. “I went away,” he said, very quietly* 
“and tried to forget, tried to study, tried a great many 
things, but it would not do ; ” and then he added, as if try- 
ing to explain his rather ambiguous phrases, “ my father 
is very old, you know. I must not leave him. It would not 
be right, would it ? ” 

Her self-possession, which had momentarily deserted her 
during his almost impassioned address, now returned, and 
she answered archly : “ Why, no ; of course it would not be 
right But why should you seek to leave him, and your 
friends too ? And as for trying to forget, surely your mem- 
ories are not so very dreadful that you must try and fly 
from them ! I thought Mr. Adolph was afraid of nothing.” 

Her half raOlery roused him, and he responded in the 
same vein, or tried to, for his attempt was a partial failure, 
and she felt that some emotion was stirring his nature to 
the very depths. 

“But how is Gretchen, Mr. Adolph ; you have just come 
from the cottage ? She has been very, very ill” 

“ Yes, and you have been the good angel there, too. I 
thank you, I thank you,” he repeated- “ I think she is 
better, at least she was resting nicely ; she has indeed been 
very ill” 

Then he told her how he had been to the great city, vrith 


THE EUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


483 


the half-formed intention of following out a course of study- 
in one of the institutions there, but found it impossible to 
tame his longing for father, home, and friends. 

“ I know you will think this a strange, perhaps ignoble 
feehng for one no longer in the blush of youth, who ought 
by this time to be somewhat hardened by the experience 
of years,” he said, hesitatingly, almost pleadiugly, she 
thought, as if he would deprecate in advance any blame 
she might impute to his want of courage ; “ but remember 
I am almost a savage, and have the instincts and habits of 
a savage ; and the home ties are too strong to be easily sev- 
ered.” 

She regarded the speaker smilingly. “ If love of home 
and friends is the characteristic of a savage, and impaired 
by our civilization, Mr. Adolph, then, I say perish the civil- 
ization, for what, after all, is culture, learning, books, train- 
ing, compared with the sacred feeling of love of home and 
kindred?” 

“ Do you really feel so, and can regard what I have been 
afraid was a shameful weakness with leniency and allow- 
ance ? But I cannot so readily forgive myself for what I 
feel was a weakness.” 

“Is it not really a question of duty?” she asked in a 
low tone. “ Is not your place here, where your aged 
father lives, and who must mourn your absence? Filial 
duty is surely before any desire for mere personal good.” 

His head sunk for an instant, as if he were weighing her 
words, and then looking up he said, simply : “ I believe 
you are right ; I was selfish to go, and yet — but my father 
must not be left to pine alone.” 

“ But what led you to go so far away from home; surely 
you could have found what you seek much nearer ? ” she 
asked, as they walked in the direction of the cottage, for 
hitherto they had been standing by the clump of maples 
where they first met. 


484 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


‘‘Well, I will confess,” lie answered, slowly, as if half 
doubtful as to how his communication might be received, 
and his mood was almost feverishly sensitive to her criti- 
cism. “ I wrote a short article on a certain rare and curi- 
ous plant which I discovered some miles from here, and 
sent it to the editor of the Natural Science Journal your 
father lent me. You look surprised at my doing such a 
rash thing, and indeed I felt as if I had made a foolish 
blunder in doing so, as soon as the letter was posted, for I 
reflected that although the plant might seem rare and curi- 
ous to me, yet it might be very familiar to botanists.” 

She had indeed showed astonishment in her look, but it 
was a pleased surprise, and as he paused, said quickly : “ I 
am so glad ; and what was the result — did they publish it ? ” 

“To my great astonishment it came out in the next 
issue, and by post there came a complimentary note from 
the editor congratulating me on adding a new plant to the 
flora of the country.” 

“ How delightful ! Let me wish you joy ! ” exclaimed 
Elsie, holding out her hand and clasping his warmly. “ I 
was sure your great knowledge of these things would come 
to something sooner or later ; but please go on.” 

“ There is not much more to tell, only that we had some 
further correspondence, and in response to one of my 
questions he suggested that I should go to New York and 
take a short course in the institution in which he occupies 
a chair as professor of the anatomy and physiology of 
plants.” 

“Just the thing you were wishing for, was it not ? ” 

“ Yes, and in my then condition ot‘ mind I eagerly ac- 
cepted the invitation, but I overestimated my own strength 
of resolution, and a few days showed me my weakness, as 
my being here shows it to you.” 

A larger, fuller meaning than his words expressed was in 
his face, and with swift intuition Elsie read it there, and to 


THE RUSSIAX REFUGEE. 


485 


her great annoyance felt her color rising ; and somehow an 
awkward silence chained her lips, and neither spoke further 
until the cottage was reached. 

They found the “ Giraffe ” sitting in contemplative mood 
outside, with a pipe in his mouth out of which the fire had 
departed. He seemed to be in a “ brown-study,” to use a 
favorite expression of Elsie’s father, and did not notice 
their approach, but on their attempting to enter the dwell- 
ing he started up like a watch-dog on the alert. 

“ Oh, oh ! Miss Elsie, mebbe Carl an’ me ain’t glad to see 
yer ! ” referring to his dog, a rather shaggy specimen of 
canine fidelity, which now ran up and began to frisk and 
gambol as if to speak for himself. “ An’ friend Adolph, 
too, he ’members yer both, he does. Bless yer, why, thet 
dog knows more’n most humans. When Gretchen took ail- 
ing like, ses I, ‘ Carl, no more barkin’, ’cause Gretchen’s 
kinder twisted up an’ wants no noise,’ an’ he sorter put his 
squirrel-trap on one side, knowing like, an’ wagged his tail, 
an’ durn me ef he’s barked sence ; knows more’n most 
humans.” 

Elsie stroked the faithful creature, who was, she knew, 
uncommonly sagacious. Hiram’s eyes twinkled with satis- 
faction, for with him, as with most hunters and sportsmen 
generally, it was indeed “ love me, love my dog.” 

“He’s. a rare ’un. Miss Elsie, he is. But I’m sorter on- 
easy in my mind ’bout the ole woman,” he went on, the 
absorbed, half-troubled look he wore when they arrived 
coming back to his rugged face. “ She’s kind o’ flighty 
this morning, and raves for the Chief to come and see her, 
and I was a-thinking, as yer come up, friend Adolph, thet 
maybe the ole man would come up an’ sorter soothe her — 
leastwise, he mought try. She allers believed in him, an’ 
I feel kinder sure ’t’ll do her good.” 

“If you think so, Hiram, I am sure father will try 
and come. Of course,” he added, to Elsie, “ I am cautious 


486 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


about urging or advising liiin to expose himself to any un- 
due emotion or excitement, for we all realize that at his 
advanced period of life his hold on earth is very slight, and 
an even, nearly monotonous, existence is almost impera- 
tively necessary.” 

“ I understand that ; and yet, is there not an equal or 
even greater peril in permitting the emotions and feelings 
to remain quite dormant ? Is there not danger of unhealthy 
stagnation if the pool of the inner and better life is not oc- 
casionally ruffled by the presence of the angel of compas- 
sion ? ” she said, quietly. “ But your father, of all men, is 
not likely to suffer in that way.” 

Adolph smiled in the half-deferential, haff-humorous 
way which she had often observed in him when he was 
impressed with some thought bordering on the ludicrous 
as he quickly responded : “ True ; you understand him, 
for, singularly enough, it was only yesterday that he was 
quite excited about something that was related in his pres- 
ence which aroused his pity and indignation, with the usual 
result that he was obliged to lie down to recover the vital 
tone he had thus lost. However, he recruited quickly, and 
on sitting up, said, pathetically,. “lam afraid I shall never 
live to be an old man, unless I leam to control myself bet- 
ter,” adding to himself : “ But little hope of that, unless I 
become both blind and deaf.” 

Elsie laughed heartily, and the “Giraffe” haw-hawed 
until the welkin rang with the echoes. 

“ He is younger than many men at a third of his years. 
What a glorious thing such a beautiful old age is ! How 
very few are so favored.” 

“ Yes,” Adolph said, and she always noticed that his 
eyes glowed with a peculiarly tender light when speaking 
of his venerable parent. “ I suppose there have not been 
many who have breasted the storms of life for nearly a 
century and a quarter, but father thinks many more have 


THE EUSSIAH KEFUGEE. 


487 


lived to great age than history takes note of, and indeed 
holds that most of the race, if fairly well born and circum- 
stanced, are capable of it, and that premature decay is the 
penalty of trausgression of nature s laws.” 

Poor Gretchen was very low, and took little notice of 
anything, and yet Dr. Seaman, on his visit the previous 
evening, had pronounced her better, although not yet out 
of danger. She had, as Hiram had said, been a little wan- 
dering in her mind, but when Elsie took her hand she 
smiled a recognition and pressed her fingers gratefully. 

“ I have been so sick, an’ mine body feels so weak,” she 
murmured, as Elsie bent her head to catch the low accents. 

Very different indeed she looked from the plump, hearty, 
good-natured woman of a few weeks before. However, all 
felt more cheerful, for she was undoubtedly better, and said 
so. But, with the whim of a sick person, she kept inquir- 
ing every few moments when the old Chief was coming, 
as she wanted to have some good sleep, and then she would 
begin to get well. 

“ Strange that she should have this notion so strong 
about my father’s ability to give her sleep ; but then he cer- 
tainly has some power in that way. I have seen him calm 
patients at once by simply laying his hand on their heads 
when tossing in all the wild restlessness of delirious fever.” 

‘‘ I, too, can speak on that point, for never shall I forget 
the restfulness of his touch when I was suffering from my 
accident at your home,” returned Elsie, with warmth. 
“ Do try and induce him to come and help poor Gretchen 
— that is,” she added, quickly, “ if it will not imperil his 
own health.” 

"‘Oh, it will not be near so difficult to induce him to 
come, when he knows Gretchen wishes him, than to keep 
him at home,” laughingly assented Adolph, as he promised 
that his father should be with the sick one the next morn- 
ing, if possible. 


488 


THE RHSSIAX REEUGEE. 


Rarely had the young mistress of the Hermitage enjoyed 
a walk as keenly as the return home that day. It was one 
of those soft autumn days when the departing summer 
seems to clasp hands in friendly feeling with the prospec- 
tive heir to his realm, who has just come, as it were, to spy 
out the estate over which in brief period he is to reign. 
There was no rivalry, but the mellow glow of good-fellow- 
ship. The air was delightful, and of medium temperature, 
and Nature smiled cheerily, clad as she was in her bright 
holiday gaijb of variegated colors. The scene appealed 
strongly to the poetic and artistic imagination of Adolph, 
who had accompanied Elsie, and he spoke with a native elo- 
quence which rather surprised her. This shy, modest, retir- 
ing man, with slender education, and few or no opportunities 
for culture, such as varied society gives, had yet, tmder such 
influences as his simple life afforded, developed a strong, 
nicely balanced, and critical mind in reference to most sub- 
jects within the range of his observation. His knowledge 
of nature’s treasures was, as Elsie and her father agreed, 
much superior to that of any one within their circle of ac- 
quaintance. 

“ Please walk in and take dinner with us,” urged the 
young mistress of the mansion. “ You have given me so 
many new views, this morning, of things which I have often 
passed hastily over in my walks, that a score of questions 
arise in my mind which I want to ask you; and, besides, 
father wiU be so glad to hear about your New York ex- 
perience.” 

‘‘ The questions will keep, even supposing I were capable 
of answering them,” said the gentleman, all his shrinking 
reserve coming back at the thought of the social trial 
which dinner might involve. 

Nervously sensitive regarding conventional proprieties, 
a natural result of his isolated life, the Russian still hesi- 
tated, when at this moment jMi*. Hastings himself appeared 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


489 


on the scene, and would hear of no denial, adding : “ We 
dine alone, and shall be delighted to have j^ou with us ; be- 
sides, I want to have a talk with you.” 

Dining alone with these two was very different from 
forming one of a large, critical company, and so Adolph of- 
fered no further opposition. 

The dinner was ready soon after eotering the house, 
Elsie having but a few moments for such simple change 
of toilet as she required ; the brief period being spent by 
the visitor in looking at a new illustrated work recently 
published on “American horses,” a subject in which both 
host and guest were much interested, for Mr. Hastings was 
an enthusiastic horseman, and Adolph was very familiar 
with, and an ardent admirer of, the noble animal. 

The Kussian thought he never before enjoyed a repast 
so much as he did that dinner. So urbane and unobtru- 
sively thoughtful was the host, so gracefully attentive the 
fair hostess, that their guest was entirely at his ease, and 
conversed with intelligence and freedom on the varied top- 
ics suggested. There was a simplicity and naturalness, a 
genuine unaffected and frank manhood, about the visitor 
which forcibly impressed the owner of the Hermitage and 
won his admiration. « 

“ That is the most genuine specimen of a natural gentle- 
man I have ever met. He owes almost nothing to society 
or the schools, but has a native breeding and innate con- 
sciousness of the right thing to do and say,” he observed 
to his daughter as their guest left them about the middle of 
the afternoon. 

Elsie was delighted to hear her father so express himself, 
for she had feared that some social or race prejudice 
might, unknown even to himself, have lodgement in his 
mind unfavorable to these isolated people with whom they 
had been brought into such curious and intimate relations. 
The kindness and attention manifested by her parent she 


490 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


had half feared might be prompted by the sense of the heavy 
obligation under which he felt he lay to them, and so she 
was especially gratified to hear his hearty expression of 
esteem for the individual manly qualities of the younger 
Russian. For herself, she had followed her intuitions, and 
apart from the consciousness of heavy indebtedness on her 
part for help and kindest attention and hospitality in her 
urgent need — independent of this, ^ye say, she had given the 
entire Cave family a special and warm place on the hearth- 
stone of her friendship, and installed them there as favored 
guests. And as her father was her other life, as it were, 
she wished him to regard these friends in like manner. 
Hence her joy at his words. Her pleasure was so evident 
at what he said, and she kissed him so warmly, saying, “ I 
knew you would inevitably come to that conclusion, father,” 
that it set him thinking, and he felt as one before whose 
eyes the mist suddenly clears from the horizon. 


CHAPTER XLH. 


THE HEALING POWER. 

The sick* woman had passed a restless night, and was 
muttering incoherently, tossing restlessly to and fro, when 
Dr. Seaman entered the cottage. After a brief examina- 
tion, he called Hiram aside and inquired gravely if she had 
been unduly excited in any way the day previous, adding : 
“She was better, certainly, when I left her yesterday, but 
this morning is not so well.” 

“ Wall, doctor, it’s my ’pinion thet Gretchen’s kinder 
riled ’cause we didn’t hev the old man here yesterday. 
She’d set her mind on’t thet he’d sorter soothe her like, an’ 
maybe he would. Women’s crooked creeters, an’ needs a 
heap o’ soothing at times. But she ain’t been ’cited ’cept 
thet ; leastways, not as I knows of, an’ I hev been to hum 
most all the time.” 

“ Whom does she want to see ? ” asked Seaman, rather 
abruptly, his professional instinct on the alert to discover 
if there were any desire to change physicians. 

“ The old man — the Chief, as they call him ; but,” added 
the trapper, cautiously, thinking perhaps he had been im- 
prudent, “mebbe yer don’t know him, doctor. He’s an 
old friend o’ her’n, an’ she’s got a sorter conceit thet p’raps 
he kin cure her by what they call laying on o’ hands ; least- 
ways, I kalkerlate thet’s it. I don’t take no stock in sich 
myself, nohow. I believe in the reg’lar perfession, but I 
sorter ’magine he kin help, for he’s a hull team to soothe, 
he is, an’ is smarter most ways then yer find.” 

Seaman was reassured as to Hiram’s soundness toward 


492 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


the “ reg’lar perfession,” but still a little curious to know 
' who this quack could be that professed to cure typhoid 
fever by “ laying on o’ hands.” Just at this moment a 
ti’ampling of horses’ feet reached his ear, and almost imme- 
diately Elsie Hastings dashed up on her favorite Gyp. 

“ Why, Cousin Warren, I expected to be ahead of you.” 

“As if that were possible,” responded the physician, 
with mock astonishment. “ Such audacity — such egotism, 
indeed ! But, Elsie, do tell me, who is this wonderful layer 
on of hands, this digital quack, that these people seem so 
desirous to bring here — at least Gretchen, according to 
what Hiram tells me, for he still seems to have some con- 
scientious scruples respecting what- is due to the ‘reg’lar 
perfession ? ’ ” 

“ Please mind, you conceited son of ^sculapius, whom you 
are calling a quack. The doctor is coming here this morn- 
ing, to show you members of the ‘ reg’lar perfession ’ how 
to treat disease, and I’m sure I hope he will do the poor 
woman good,” regarding her cousin’s perturbed brow mis- 
chievously ; “ but how is Gretchen ? ” 

“ I do not find her so well, and that delirium has re- 
turned. But you, too, are leagued against the ‘ reg’lar per- 
fession ’ and in favor of quackeiy. Come now, please tell 
me who my rival is, so that I can be off and leave him a 
free field in which to practise his incantations. Of course, I 
shall have to give up the case.” 

Seeing her cousin was^ really annoyed, and thinking she 
detected the sound of wheels, which possibly might herald 
the coming visitors, she changed her manner. 

“ No, you foolish fellow, you will do no such thing as re- 
tire from the case. What sticklers you medical men are 
for professional dignity, as you call it. Don’t you know, 
or must I tell you, that this is the second patient of yours 
that this quack, as you temi him, has treated, and that you 
have already met him in consultation ? ” 


THE RUSSIATSr REFUGEE. 


493 


“ What do you mean ? ” And then, a sudden light break- 
ing on him, he exclaimed : “ Surely not the old Kussian ? 
How stupid I was not to think of him before. Is he really 
coming ? ” 

She nodded gayly, and then sprung from her horse, and 
leaving Hiram to attend to the animal, entered the house 
with the doctor. 

“ Then you think you can afford to meet the quack with- 
out compromising the dignity of your high mightiness ? ” 
she asked, as they paused for an instant in the outer room. 

I shall be pleased to meet the old man again, and shall 
be glad indeed if his psychological power, which really is 
wonderful, can soothe poor Gretchen into deep slumber ; 
for that would be a crisis with her, I think, and on awaking 
she would go on, probably, toward recovery.” 

“ A graceful admission, which I suppose I must allow to 
offset your outrageous remarks of a few moments since.” 

The patient could not be roused to recognition, but 
stared at them wildly, turning uneasily from side to side. 

“She is a very sick woman,” Seaman said, in answer to 
the inquiring look of his cousin — “ even dangerously so ; 
but this is a peculiar disease, and subject to many ups and 
downs.” 

A sound of wheels, and then the voice of Adolph drew 
them out-of-doors again, where they found the Patriarch 
looking so kind and genial that Warren whispered : “ He 
resembles a sunshiny day in midwinter.” 

His face shone with pleasure as Elsie advanced to salute 
him. 

“ My dear daughter,” he said, as he took both her hands 
and pressed his lips to her forehead, “how pleasant to 
meet you again ! And how is our friend Gretchen ? ” 

“ Not so well, I am sorry to say,” said Dr. Seaman, com- 
ing forward and shaking hands with the ancient man, 
“ She has, I understand, called for you frequently,” 


494 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ I helped her through a severe illness many years ago, 
and she has never forgotten it. I think I always had more 
or less magnetic influence over her, doctor,” he said, as if in 
partial explanation of his presence on the occasion as a 
healer, “ and you know there are occult influences which 
largely control the course of certain diseases, although we 
may not be able to understand clearly how they act.” 

“ Certainly,” assented the medical man ; yet, perhaps, un- 
consciously to himself, there was in his manner something of 
a shrinking from seeming to indorse anything iiTegular in 
connection with medical practice. Medical men are called 
naiTow, bigoted, and conservative, and many of them deserve 
all that can be urged against them in this way, for too often 
a grave exterior and wise manner cover a woful igno- 
rance and their practice is only a stupid routine. But much 
can be said in extenuation of the conservatism and rigid 
attitude of the better and really educated class of the pro- 
fession when we consider what a frightful imposition and 
cruel fraud quackery in all its phases has been to the race. 
It has been in most cases — yes, the vast majority — an unmit- 
igated evil. When we consider what sort of men or women 
medical frauds are, no language can be too strong in con- 
demning them. They ought to be classed with the sooth- 
sayers, astrologers, and exorcists of old times, and treated 
accordingly. But there have been Natural Healers, and such 
was undoubtedly the ancient man who now stood by the 
sick woman’s couch trying to soothe her delirious fever and 
calm her into quiet slumber. She seemed in some way to 
be sensible of his presence, and grew quieter, as he touched 
the hot hand, so wasted from its normal plumpness. Ask- 
ing that all the windows should be opened as widely as pos- 
sible, he seated himself by the patient, still clasping her 
hand, and further requested that they be left entirely alone. 

“ If I were a young and strong man this would not be 
necessary,” he said, apologetically, ‘‘ for then I could easily 


THE KUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


495 


antagonize ulterior influences, and have surplus force suffi- 
cient to control my patient ; but my age and comparative 
feebleness render it imperative that I should economize 
my vital power so as to concentrate all influence on our 
poor friend here.” 

“ I must say, with all due reverence for our aged friend,” 
observed Dr. Seaman to Elsie, as they stood outside, “ that 
I should think more of his therapeutics if he did not make 
this show of mystery, and this talk about influences. The 
presence of one person in the room could not have seriously 
interfered with the modus operandi, whatever it may be.” 

“Provided that one person were my sapient cousin, 
M.D,,” she replied, quickly, with a mischievous smile. 

“ Well, yes, I think it is being unnecessarily exclusive, 
for if there is a special force which can be utilized for 
healing disease or relieving suffering, it should not be 
shrouded in mystery, but be made known to the world.” 

“ Why, you most unreasonable of men, didn’t the Patri- 
arch explain that it was on account of his great age that he 
asked to be left alone ! Just remember that at one hun- 
dred and twenty the powers of life run at a low tide and 
any distracting influence may be felt seriously.” 

“ Perhaps so,” returned the other. “ It is a wonderful 
age, and even a whim ought to be respected in a cente- 
narian.” 

Adolph had gone off with Hiram and the horses, and he 
now returned, joining the two cousins. 

“ Father is in the room with Gretchen, I suppose ? Did 
he turn you all out ? ” he inquired, with a half smile. 

“ Yes,” returned Miss Hastings ; “ and my learned medi- 
cal cousin here was inclined to grumble a little at it until 
I showed him that at your father’s time of life any distract- 
ing influence might seriously prejudice his efforts in 
Gretchen’s behalf.” 

‘‘ That is it otherwise he would, I know, have 


496 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


been glad of Dr. Seaman’s presence in the sick-room ; in- 
deed he intimated as much to me as we came along.” 

“ Oh, of course, I understand this is an exceptional case, 
not an ordinary consultation in any degree, as your father 
is not a practising physician. But naturally I have a strong 
curiosity in reference to any treatment of diseased condi- 
tion, especially as in this case, where the plan pursued is 
so entirely foreign to my experience and training. But 
does the Patriai’ch — pardon my so calling him, but I have 
heard my cousin here use that title, and it is so adapted to 
his reverend age — does he never avail himself of the action 
of di'ugs ? ” 

“ Never,” replied the Kussian ; “ he says that drugs are 
only a clumsy substitute for higher knowledge, and that 
the practice of the future will be largely mental — the 
power which a healthy mind, dwelling in a vigorous, sound 
body, can exert over a weak and sickly one to modify or re- 
move diseased conditions.” 

“ Perhaps such a consummation of all the long labors in 
the field of medical inquiry and experiment is, for human- 
ity’s sake, devoutly to be wished, but it is, I fear, a remote 
prospect,” the physician answered, as if he individually had 
no great faith in such a prophecy. 

“ Father’s step,” suddenly remarked Adolph, and all arose 
from the rustic seats in the little arbor at the southern ex- 
posure of the cottage — covered in the flush of the season 
with a trellis-work of vines, now partially withered — as the 
venerable man issued from the dwelling and came slowly 
toward them. Saluting the group in his old-fashioned, 
courteous manner, he seated himself in their midst, and 
without speaking closed his eyes as if weary. 

For a brief space no word was said, and then the silence 
was broken by Dr. Seaman saying softly to Adolph : “ Per- 
haps your father had better be left alone for a short time, 
as he looks tired and may wish to rest,” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


497 


With that marvellous activity of the senses which Sea- 
man had noticed before, the Patriarch heard the low tone 
and answered himself without, however, opening his eyes : 
“ Not so, my son ; I shall gather strength from you all, aided 
by the genial influences of this nectar-like air. There, I am 
all right again ; ” and with the words, he looked up and 
smiled at the httle group. Then addressing Elsie : “ My 

daughter, just step in and see Gretchen and bring us a 
report of her condition now as you find it, and we will quiet- 
ly await your return before resuming conversation.” 

Elsie, without speaking, disappeared inside the cottage, 
and not a word was spoken until her retuim, nor did Sea- 
man feel any desire to break the silence, for as he remarked 
afterward, ‘‘In the presence of that wonderful old man I 
feel as if I no longer had volition, but was under the spell 
of another mind, my own will being in abeyance.” 

“ Gretchen is resting so sweetly, with her eyes closed, 
that I did not dare to speak to her for fear she might be 
sleeping, and she does need the rest so much. You have 
worked a miracle on her, and we aU feel so grateful to you 
for coming, said Elsie, upon her return.” 

Those smiling eyes, set so deeply in the aged face, re- 
garded her fixedly for an instant. 

“ No, my child, not a miracle ; there is no miracle. I 
merely brought my nature in its healthy, quiet, and unper- 
turbed life into mental and spiritual relation with the storm- 
tossed, feverish, and restless being of our sick friend ; and 
as nature always seeks equihbrium and rest, although her 
manifestations in constant change may seem to indicate the 
reverse, our patient soon yielded to such influence as I was 
able to bring to bear on her disturbed conditions, and she 
sank into restful slumber.” Adding, after a pause, “ You 
can each of you do likewise if you will pay the price for such 
power. My drugs and medicamenta are less palpable and 
tangible than those used by our young friend here, but just 
33 ' - 


498 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


as definite in tlieir physiological action, only such action 
is secondary to the higher or psychical force exerted by 
my peculiar methods of healing.” 

“ But,” eagerly inquired the physician, “ if there exists 
such a force as you speak of and indeed seem to possess, 
why do so few appear to be gifted with it ? I have certainly 
heard of these mind-healers, among religious people termed 
‘ faith-curers,’ since I remember, but concluded naturally 
that they were either impostors deceiving for gain or else 
fanatics working on the imagination — in any case deceivers 
or deceived. But you invest the matter with a reality I 
did not suppose it possessed.” 

“ No doubt, my young friend, there are many frauds in 
this way, but the existence of the clever or even crude 
counterfeit coin proves, does it not, the existence and value 
of the real ? It is rarely that the false or inferior is coun- 
terfeited, the good can scarcely escape it, for the instinc- 
tive hunger of humanity for truth is such that they wiU ac- 
cept an imitation rather than absolutely starve, and as in 
even the very coarsest vegetables and grains there is some 
nutriment, so you wiU find that whatever has, under the 
form of mental or spiritual food, or cure for diseased physi- 
cal conditions, been offered through the ages and been 
largely accepted by them, has had something in it to satisfy 
their needs, and arrest in some degree the famine that was 
consuming them. In short, a fuller experience wiU show 
you that nothing that takes hold of human hfe in any large 
degree is entirely evil. The instinct of the inferior creat- 
ures guards them, generally, against being poisoned, al- 
though occasionally they will eat what gives them pain and 
suffering, and perhaps death ; but, as a rule, the absolutely 
poisonous plants are strictly avoided. So, to some extent, 
with our race ; and the less cultivated, the lower in the 
scale, the more, perhaps, this unreflecting tendency will save 
them from going wholly astray, however wildly for a time 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


, 499 


they may wander from the right road. However, this is 
somewhat of a digression, and intended to remind you that 
invariably a modicum of good exists in things evil. Speak- 
ing more particularly of this psychic power in its healing 
action or influence over disturbed physical conditions, I 
will say that it is much more common than you suppose. 
That indeed all true physicians have it to a greater or less 
extent, and just in proportion to their real success. But 
its realm of action is vastly larger and more extended than 
the ordinarily acknowledged field of therapeutics, for it is 
operating everywhere in our social and domestic life to 
restore and heal, to lift up, to succor, to save. Other 
things and agencies being estimated at their full value in 
the sick-room, I would still insist that the patient's restora- 
tion to health depends very largely on the degree of vigor 
and health, freedom from anxiety, and cheerfulness of the 
people about him. If they are hopeful, sanguine, calm in 
spirit, and of what we term a happy frame of mind, and this 
supplemented by a good degree of physical health, then 
the patient is under the best conditions for recovery. For 
there is a subtile influence going continually from the 
healthy, cheerful nurse, doctor, or friend to buoy up and 
tide the sick one over the weak places where his tottering 
feet might stumble, and a fall destroy him. This unseen, 
unsuspected vital energizing, something so subtile as to 
elude our most searching analysis, is beyond all pills, 
powders, potions, draughts, and other medicamenta sub- 
ject to sensual perception ; for these latter are but weak 
symbols of this — the true ‘ vis medicatrix.’ ” 

“ Then I infer,” said Seaman, who had listened with re- 
spectful attention to the aged speaker, ‘‘ that you would 
never permit a weak or sickly person to be in attendance 
upon the sick in any capacity whatsoever ? ” 

“ Exactly what I would teach and emphasize with all 
authority possible, for according to the degree of vigor in 


500 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


the attendants will the sick person’s chances of restoration 
be enhanced or lessened.” 

“ I heartily agree with you ; and for this reason, how 
much better to have healthy trained nurses instead of de- 
pressed, anxious, and often half -in valid relatives or friends 
to take charge of the sick-room ! ” responded the physician, 
warmly. 

“I think I understand,” said Elsie, speaking for the 
first time since the conversation began, how that the rel- 
atives naturally suppose that their affection and devotion 
will enable them to fill the position of attendant as no 
stranger could do, not knowing that they are, if depressed 
or feeble, or both, really exhausting the vitality and lessen- 
ing the chances of the dear one.” 

“You have aptly and clearly expressed my idea, my 
child, and when the world sees this truth in relation to the 
sick it will have taken an important step toward that 
blessed period in the futm’e history of our planet, when 
through a better understanding of the laws which govern 
vital action sickness will be unknown,” rejoined the old 
man, gazing with a gratified air on the young lady. 

“ If you are not too tired I would like to ask another 
question or so,” said Seaman. 

“ It is not fatiguing to me to converse in this way on such 
subjects, and I shall be pleased to answer if I can, any ques- 
tions on this or other topics on which you seek light. But 
suppose, doctor, you first step in and see the patient and 
give us the benefit of your opinion on her present condi- 
tion?” 

“ Cei'tainly,” and the medical man entered the dwelling, 
returning in about five minutes. “ I am happy to state that 
Gretchen is doing well, and at present sleeping, apparently 
not having awakened since Elsie saw her, and that is 
Hiram s statement too, sitting within call. Her temperature 
is almost normal, and that feverish restlessness is hardly 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


501 


noticeable. What sbe needed was tranquillizing slumber, 
and that sbe is now enjoying. You bave succeeded, appar- 
ently, in calming that hypersensitive state into wbicb sbe 
bad fallen, and that is tbe greatest boon you could confer.” 

“I rejoice to bear you speak so favorably, doctor, and am 
satisfied that if this sleep continues an bour or so longer 
tbe crisis will be passed. Do you not agree with me ? ” 
Seaman promptly answered : Yes, I feel sbe will be out 
of danger, if sbe can only rest as sbe is now doing for a 
while longer. But I must hasten to ask my questions, as I 
bave some pressing claims upon my attention, many miles 
from here. I wish to ask. How can this power which you 
seem to possess over disturbed physical or mental states 
be acquired, if that is possible, or is it only tbe natural gift 
of a chosen few, bke tbe faculty for music, for instance ? ” 

“ Tbe power you speak of, my son,” tbe old man an- 
swered, deliberately, after a short pause, “is tbe natural 
fruit of tbe tree of life — tbe necessary sequence of large 
repeated life — and may be manifested in one as music; 
in another, as artistic power ; in a third, as wonderful 
eloquence ; or it may be exhibited as phenomenal literary 
ability ; or, as in tbe cases you have more immediately 
alluded to, as exceptional control over disease, commonly 
called natural healing power. But it is one and tbe self- 
same thing in all these manifestations. Thus, Handel and 
Mozart, Angelo and Raphael, Demosthenes and Cicero, 
Shakespeare and Goethe, not to mention other examples 
wbicb will easily occur to you, were tbe natural and neces- 
sary outcome of somewhat similar conditions, and through 
these varied channels, and by such different modes, mani- 
fested a power which was remarkable, and, until we come to 
understand the laws of its growth, pei*plexing and bewilder- 
ing. But, my friends, these phenomenal members of our 
race are simply older men, who give us the garnered har- 
vestings of many life-fields. Were this theii’ fii’st or even 


502 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


second arrival on our planet, they could not show such ex- 
ceptional ability. Nature works slowly, and takes long, 
long periods to produce a diamond, or an amethyst, or any 
other thing of rare quality and value ; and shall she do less 
by mind, by soul, by spirit, by all that combination of 
wondrous elements which are found in the leaders of our 
race ? These gifted ones have been here before, and had 
probably many birthdays on this planet, and it is this re- 
peated experience of our earth-life which has developed and 
sharpened their powers, and given them that keenness of 
perception and marked abihty which distinguishes them 
from their fellows. They have graduated so often at the 
same school, that they can easily take the honors. But my 
young friend the doctor is, I fear, laughing at my theories, 
as he will term them, esteeming them but as the vagaries 
of senility.''’ For the medical man had smiled broadly 
during the last sentence or so, and now started almost 
superstitiously ; for he was sitting so that the speaker could 
not see his face, and besides, the eyes of the Patriarch had 
been closed, as was his wont frequently when speaking 
continuously for any length of time. Before Seaman, who 
was somewhat confused, could answer, the old man re- 
marked, “ I did not see you smile, my son, but felt it, for 
sight and vision do not pertain only to the eyes ; knowledge 
may arrive at the mind by many channels.” 

“Pardon me, my dear sir, I only smiled at the novelty 
of the thoughts, and at the curious fancies to which they 
gave rise in my mind. Pray go on, for I am really much 
interested. But may I ask if we are to infer, from what 
you have said, that you think these special men, Shakes- 
peare, Goethe, etc., have been born into the world again 
and again, until they have reached the degree of superior 
development which so astonishes and delights us ? But the 
thought naturally occurs, why should they be thus distin- 
guished above others. For, if it is the continual rebirth 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


503 


which gradually gives them superiority, they were origin- 
ally no higher than their fellows ; and why have they been 
thus favored ? ” 

The Patriarch regarded the little group before him with a 
benevolent half smile. “ Only those are reborn on our planet 
who lack something in their development that earth alone 
can give. Each world in the universe of being has some 
special part to perform in the training and development of 
sentient beings, and no other can take the place of ours in 
affording this essential ‘ something ’ to the beings who have 
once reached this stage of their growth in their upward 
progress. It may be that this necessary quality is of 
a moral or spiritual nature — I hardly think it is merely in- 
tellectual, as that can be developed in other spheres of 
action equally well. However, be it what it may, the ab- 
sence of it on leaving this stage would necessitate a return 
by rebirth. This must be repeated until the lesson is 
learned, and then the soul will pass on to the next stage of 
being. Now, the intellectual power which attracts so much 
admiration here is incidental merely, and a result of these 
repeated experiences.” 

“Then, father,” quietly asked Elsie, who had been ab- 
sorbed in attention, “ we are not to understand that all re- 
turn to earth after death ? ” 

“ By no means, my daughter ; a considerable number of 
those who return are the souls which have prematurely 
passed through death’s portals, before sufficient earthly 
years had been theirs to give them the growth possible to 
be obtained here. Many are the spirits of those who, 
though living out the full tale of years, yet through indo- 
lence or obeying low instincts, did not progress, and so re- 
mained as children, only lacking the purity and innocence 
of that condition, but children so far as development in the 
higher lines of hfe is concerned — morally and spiritually.” 

Here the doctor rose, saying : “ Thank you ever so much 


504 


THE EtJSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


for answering my questions. You have given me some- 
thing to think about during my ride, for the time warns 
me I must be off. Perhaps, when I have been bom a few 
more times, I shall be able to cure my patients without 
visiting them at all, by mere^effort of the will. Who knows ? 
I do hope I shall be privileged soon again to hear you on 
these, to me, very interesting subjects.” Clasping the hand 
of the aged man warmly, and then successively those of 
Elsie and Adolph with “ Good-by,” Seaman drove rapidly 
away. This broke up the party, and all were soon wending 
their several ways homeward. 


CHAPTER XLIH. 


A NEW DEPARTURE. 

The good-humored Dutch woman awoke from her life- 
saving slumber about four o’clock in the afternoon of the 
day the Patriarch visited her with such soothing effect, and 
exclaimed at once : “ Hiram, mine husband, I vas better ; 
that old man am goot. Is my boy Hans here, somewheres ? ” 

Poor Hans, who had been half demented at the thought 
of his mother’s peril, spending a large part of his time in 
passing between the Hermitage and the cottage, happened 
to be in the adjoining room, and at once came in on hear- 
ing the welcome voice. He kissed the sick woman fondly, 
and danced around the room for joy. If, as Hkam had 
expressed it, he had before been “ hke a wet chicken,” he 
now acted like chanticleer at sunrise, and could hardly 
restrain the exuberance of his joy. 

Yes, Gretchen went on to convalescence without a single 
mishap, and excepting the loss of some forty pounds from 
her rotundity of form, soon was as well as ever, and consid- 
erably more active than she had been for years. Singu- 
larly enough, Hiram had gained just about as much flesh 
as his wife had lost, no doubt from the sedentary life he 
had been compelled to live during the long weeks of sick- 
ness. It improved his appearance much, relieving some- 
what the gauntness of his general aspect. 

“Blamed if it ain’t curus ! no loss anyhow, sense it’s stiU 
in the family ; guess Gretchen could spare the fat better’n 
I could, an’ sense it’s come my way, guess I kin take care 


506 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


of it for her,” he said, with a characteristic grimace, when 
congratulated on his physical gain. 

“ Mine blessed Mees Elsie, how goot you have been to 
me ! I should die only for you und the one dear old man. 
Have you seen the old man soon. Miss Elsie ? ” said the 
talkative convalescent, as the young lady seated herself 
after her walk on one of her visits to the cottage shortly 
after Gretchen was able to leave her bed and move about 
in the muscularly feeble way that naturally follows a length- 
ened period of forced inactivity. 

“ Yes, Gretchen ; but you keep your seat. You are yet 
too weak to be moving about so much. Let your visitors 
wait on themselves. I saw IVIi’. Kuprianoff yesterday and 
had a delightful talk with him. He was up at the Hermit- 
age.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! dot is so goot ! Dear old man.” And then, 
with a meaning smile, “An’ the oder one, Meester 
Adolph, you see him too, Mees Elsie ? ” 

The smile more than the words brought a vivid blush to 
the cheek of the fair visitor, as she answered : “ Yes, you 
know, Gretchen, such an aged man could not come alone. 
He needs his son to take care of him. But, how are you 
feeling to-day ? ” 

“First rate, veiy goot;” then reverting to the other 
topic, as if determined not to let Elsie change the conver- 
sation until she had solved some point in her mind, “ Mr. 
Adolph is one splendid goot man. Hans — you know what 
a fine boy mine Hans is, Mees Elsie ? — Hans say !Mr. Adolph 
is one fine man, most so good as Meester Hastings. Yet.” 

The visitor was unpleasantly conscious that the twinkling 
eyes of the merry woman were fixed upon her face with a 
purpose, and this consciousness gave her cheeks a height- 
ened color that only aggravated the matter. 

Gretchen seemed to take exquisite pleasure in singing 
the praises of the Cave-dwellers, and waxed fairly eloquent 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


507 


in her peculiar phraseology when dwelling on the virtues 
of Adolph. It was easy to see that he w^as a great favorite 
with the trapper’s wife, although she had not, in Elsie’s rec- 
ollection, said very much about him before ; his father 
seemed to hold chief place in her large, motherly heart, next 
to Hans, of course. Elsie half suspected this unusual 
praise might be intended to please her, or perhaps to elicit 
some expression of her feehng toward the younger Russian, 
so she was very wary in her replies, and allowed the good 
woman to speak freely out of the fulness of her heart. 
It seemed that Adolph had during the sickness visited 
them regularly every day, sometimes even twice a day, 
bringing them, from time to time, such things as he 
thought might be needed, and also attended to Hiram’s 
traps for him, bringing in a constant supply of game, 
the suiplus of which, being disposed of by the “ Giraffe,” 
yielded a small income to the cottage, sufficient to cover all 
necessary expenses. He had been truly a friend in need, 
and deserved gratitude, and Elsie soon perceived this was a 
large factor in inducing the present outburst of enthusi- 
astic admiration. However, allowing for a little natural 
over-coloring, Elsie gathered from the rather discursive talk 
of the trapper’s wife many interesting facts, going far to 
confirm her previous impression as to the exceptionally 
pure, healthful, natural life led by this isolated and almost 
unknown family. So outside of common life indeed was 
theirs that the aged Russian had, according to popular opin- 
ion, been dead over half a century, although at one time he 
had been a well-known if not popular dweller in the neigh- 
borhood, owning a fine property in their midst. 

Then Gretchen confided to her visitor the fear that she 
had of Adolph’s going away, as he had often spoken of 
lately, to engage in some business for himself, as he felt 
that Tie was w^asting his life, and must do something for the 
world. “ My, my, Mees Elsie, it would the old man kill ; 


508 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


that poor old man would be dead quite in one week if Mr. 
Adolph go.” 

Elsie here incautiously asked the question as to why he 
should go, saying that she was sure he led a useful, good 
life where he was. This gave Gretchen the opportunity 
she had been longing for, and she confidentially imparted 
her belief that he was the victim of a hopeless attachment ; 
that a certain young lady had won his heart, and that, de- 
spairing of ever winning her, he felt he must abandon the 
neighborhood and seek a career in which he could drown 
his memories. All this was told in the compromise Eng- 
lish, which lent piquancy to the story, and Elsie, in spite of 
a conviction that the recital of the rather romantic inci- 
dents was for her special benefit, and told at her rather 
than to her — curious eyes watching her closely all the time 
— could hardly control her risibilities at the ludicrous 
gestures and expressions of the jovial and sympathetic 
speaker. 

“ Oh, mine Gott, what shall we do all ef Meester Adolph 
leave us ? Hans say — you know Hans, mine fine boy, Mees 
Elsie ? — Hans he say, he go too, an’ so I lose mine boy. Oh ! 
oh ! how shall I do, mine Gott ! I must go too.” 

This was too much for Elsie, who laughed aloud at the 
serio-comic aspect of the warm-hearted woman. ‘‘Why, 
Gretchen, what nonsense ; you are the drollest and funniest 
person, when you get started, I ever saw. Why, you are 
making a mountain out of a molehill. Nobody is going 
away. I am sure Mr. Adolph would not be so cruel as to 
leave his father at his time of life.” 

She would have added more, but at this moment a shadow 
darkened the doorway, and a well-known voice said, 
quietly : “Is there room for another friend, or am I intrud- 
ing on a private conversation ? ” 

The red deepened for an instant on Elsie’s cheeks and 
then receded, leaving her face of almost alabaster paleness. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 509 

Come in, Mr. Adolph,” she said, almost timidly, and with 
a hesitancy unusual to her. “ We are glad to see you.” 

Her womanly instincts made her shrink from the suppo- 
sition that he had heard her last words to Gretchen, 
coupled with his name, and might put a wrong construc- 
tion on them. She wanted to tell him the subject of their 
conversation, but hardly knew how to begin, when he re- 
lieved her embarrassment by saying: ‘‘I would not have 
intruded when I heard you speaking,- but knowing my time 
was limited, wished to bid you both good-by.” 

“ Good-by ! ” exclaimed both his hearers at once, at the 
same time changing glances. 

“ Yes,” returned the other, sadly ; “ I leave for the West 
to-night. The truth is, I have been offered a position in 
connection with an exploring and surveying expedition, just 
organized by the government.” 

It seemed that Professor Crebbs, who had been placed in 
charge of the natural science department of the undertaking 
had been inquiring for someone skilful in wood-craft, and 
with some practical knowledge of plants, and had appealed 
to the editor of Nature, who at once named Adolph, showing 
the article he had written. Crebbs promptly wrote, offering 
him a position upon his staff, and urging his acceptance, 
“ It was just the position to meet my views, for I am too much 
a child of Nature ever to be able to endure sedentary life of 
any kind. And yet,” he added, putting his hand to his 
forehead in an abstracted way, “ I have a sort of dreamy 
memory of a past when I was a devoted bookworm, and 
spent most of my waking hours absorbed in study and 
contemplation. I do not know how you will regard such a 
peculiar notion,” he said to Elsie, for the conversation was 
between these two, Gretchen having left the room ; “ per- 
haps you will call it a dream, and possibly it may be, for it 
is but rarely the remembrance comes to me ; only, when I 
am very deeply moved or excited, or physically exhausted, 


510 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


in ihe lethargic state which succeeds, I am apt to have this 
vision of an existence in which I seem to play the principal 
part, but of which in my ordinary condition I have no 
knowledge whatsoever. Forgive my talking so much to 
you about myself in this way, but just as I entered, this 
vision of other days, so to speak, came to me with such 
power that I could not help alluding to it.” 

“Believe me,” his hearer answered, with some feeling, 
“ I am intensely interested in such mental phenomena, and 
would fain know more about the laws which control our 
lives. I almost envy your experience, for if we really did 
have a life before this one, as your father insists, it seems 
too bad to forget it entirely, as certainly most of us do.” 

“ Yet I feel half ashamed of myself for introducing such 
a subject now ; but one’s feelings are not always under con- 
trol, and to-day, somehow, serious, if not sombre, thoughts 
are uppermost. I know it sounds childish, but leaving you 
all here goes rather hard with ” 

His voice was husky, as he turned aside for a moment to 
recover himself. 

“ But you will return shortly — in a few weeks at most ? ” 

“I may never return,” he replied, sadly — “ that is, for per- 
manent residence. Of course ” — noting her look of inquir- 
ing astonishment — “I shall probably take a flying trip oc- 
casionally to see my father and — and” — he stammered 
painfully, as if unable to proceed, and then getting control 
of thoughts and tongue, as with tremendous effort of will, 
continued — “ my other friends here, if they have not for- 
gotten me.” 

Elsie both felt and looked more distressed than she could 
express, and a half feeling of indignation, too, mingled with 
her emotions, at the apparent wilfulness thus displayed in 
violently severing these filial and friendly relations for no 
earthly purpose. “ Why, I cannot understand, if it is so 
distressing for you to leave, and your father so ver^ old — 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


511 


forgive my saying so, but it doesn’t seem quite right,” and 
then all at once she remembered the words of Gretchen, 
and her lips were chained. 

His eyes were wistfully reading, or trying to read, her 
face, and an expression like the flashing light of morning 
for a second relieved the melancholy of his countenance, to 
be only succeeded by still deeper gloom. “If I dared 

think But no, I am a fool,” he said, almost harshly, as 

if chiding his inner self. “ Forgive me. It is, indeed, like 
cutting off my hand to go away. But my life is vacant 
here, my way is hedged up, my horizon draws in so closely 
that I no longer seem to have a landscape. I feel that I 
must burst the bonds that bind me, even if my heart-strings 
are snapped in the attempt.” 

He spoke with an impetuosity that was foreign to his 
usually quiet, self-contained manner, but she had long sus- 
pected that latent power and volcanic energy lay behind 
this placid exterior, although the iron will had hitherto, 
with one or two slight exceptions — mere whisperings of 
possible storms — held these spirit- surgings rigorously in 
check. She never could resist the feeling, when in his 
company, of the j)5^esence of tremendous possibility of 
force and potency of action held in and controlled by mas- 
terly self-command. 

What a complex problem human nature is ! How many a 
calm-faced individual we meet who has centuries of won- 
drous experience behind him. He the living faucet of a 
stream of tendencies which has flowed on and on through 
those past generations of ancestors. He lives and moves 
placidly enough in the present, but his source of far-off 
supply is the mountain-lake of a savage era tossed by the 
whirling storms of human passion. Quiet, respectable, 
civilized, he walks to and fro unruffled amid the stupid 
ways of ordinary men. But beware should circumstances 
or soul-stirring experiences rouse the pent-up forces slum- 


512 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


bering there, or a transformation scene may confront you 
with all the untamable fury and ruthlessness of a torrid 
simoon. Humanity is pliable and dull enough in many of 
its phases, commonplace, too, in its ordinary manifestations, 
but not the dough we sometimes deem it, by any means, 
receiving the print of our clasping fingers for weal or woe, 
in pity or in anger, without emotion. There are tearless 
eyes fixed with burning glances upon those often thought- 
lessly made finger-marks of ours, and behind the eyes, brains 
full to the brim with, the passionate instincts of a forgotten 
but yet potent past, and hot with wild tendencies to rudely 
but effectually wipe out and forever obliterate those care- 
less, but, as you thought, perhaps, indelible impressions. 
Yes, the markings and tracings, the rules and laws of so- 
ciety, the restrictions of civilized life, are, after all, in many 
cases but the gilt, or varnish, or veneering laid with more 
or less skill upon a deep background of savagery. The 
temperate zones which thinly belt the mighty torrid region 
and are atmospherically governed by the ceaseless pulsa- 
tions of its fiery heart are liable at any moment to be in- 
vaded by the destroying agencies which seethe and boil 
and sputter in the vast caldron heated by those unseen 
fires. Nothing in nature so misunderstood, so mismeas- 
ured, as man ; and to this ignorance is due our astonish- 
ment and dismay when revolutions and nots, and fearful 
wars, and carnage and massacres, reveal for a moment the 
underlying fires beneath our feet, and over which we walk 
so securely day by day. But what has this got to do mth 
our story, with the Russian or the heiress of the Hermitage ? 
Merely the reminder that each individual is a special study, 
and liable to spring surprises upon you at any moment. 
That he is not alone, segregated and cut off from the past, 
but represents the feelings, emotions, tendencies, peculiar- 
ities, vices, and \ii'tues of an antecedent host of other in- 
dividuals, called ancestors. So, treat him as you would an 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


513 


ambassador from a foreign and unseen, but yet real, con- 
stituency, which he represents, and in whose name he 
speaks. 

The Latin and Slavonic races spoke in the man stand- 
ing by Elsie Hastings, his wholo frame swelling with the 
emotions which overpowered him — too strong to be con- 
trolled, and yet too deep to find relief in words. His eyes 
dilated like those of some poor hunted denizen of the 
woods brought to bay by the hounds, with their cruel, 
pitiless glare and long, red, hungiy jaws. It looks on either 
side, but the open, cavernous mouths, with the gleaming- 
white teeth and sanguinary, ravenous tongues, lapping, in 
anticipation, the warm blood of the victim, meet it in close- 
gathering folds of remorseless destruction. She saw the 
strong agony of his vigorous nature as he seemed to 
wrestle with invisible enemies, which he felt were rapidly 
worsting him in the contest. To see a brave swimmer 
carried down-stream and submerged by a strong undertow 
which shows not to the observer, and only suggests its 
presence by the frantic contortions and efforts to resist its 
influence made by him who struggles fiercely, madly, 
despairingly against it — fills us with pity and sympathetic 
suffering similar to what the observer felt now. There 
was the warm Italian blood fiercely leaping through his 
veins, inflaming and goading him to make everything 
subservient to the passionate emotion of the moment. But 
there was countering this the strength and moral integrity 
which we often find among the better products of that 
much-enduring race which has spread its rule over so large 
a section of Europe and Asia. 

Yes, right or wrong, this representative of two great 
branches of the mighty Aryan family — the ancient stock 
whose qualities, modified and moulded by long centuries of 
varied experience, with such diverse results in North and 
South — this Russian had decided to sacrifice inclination, 
33 


514 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


affection, home, and everything which apparently made life 
for him worth having on the altar of an almost puritanic 
conscience. 

Elsie felt rather than knew this when Adolph at length 
turned toward her again with a calm face and the old smile, 
and retraced the steps he had unconsciously taken when in 
the throes of the mental contest through which he had been 
passing. “ Pardon me, my dear friend — I have conquered, 
I am myself again. Thank God, the agony of death is past ; 
I can leave you — that is” — with something of the former 
hesitancy returning — “ I can leave home and carry out my 
resolution. We all have our hours of weakness, you know, 
and I have just had one of mine, and it seemed as if for the 
moment the iron hand of cruel Destiny had me by the 
throat and was shutting off the sweet breath of life. I re- 
gret that perhaps I have made you suffer ” — for the tears 
which had sprung unbidden to her eyes and were not yet 
dry on her cheek caught his glance — for your warm heart 
feels for every pain. I do not very often lose my self-com- 
mand,” he said, deprecatingly. “I came to say a cheerful 
good-by, and I have cast a gloom over your spirits by my 
weakness. Please to forget it, and let me walk toward home 
with you — it is on my way, and I would like to say good-by 
to your father. Gretchen, good friend, where are you ? — I 
must say farewell.” 

The trapper’s wife entered with a little basket which she 
insisted on his taking, containing, as she informed him, some 
special products of her culinary skill which would do for 
his lunch. He accepted it, as Elsie saw, not to offend the 
kind feeling which prompted the worthy soul in giving it. 

“Goot-by — goot-by. Hans vill go crazy, he vill,” she 
ejaculated, between her sobs, casting, as Elsie thought, re- 
proachful glances in her direction, as if she were in some de- 
gree accountable for this calamity. But sorrow for any 
length of time was impossible to the sunny, hopeful nature 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


515 


of the jovial old Dutchwoman, and so before Adolph 
crossed the threshold she had dried her tears and was call- 
ing out to him : “ Now, Meester Adolph, you moost coome 
back soon quick an’ see Miss Elsie an’ your fader an’ your 
friends.” 

‘‘All right-^ril not forget any of my friends, Gretchen,” 
said Adolph, hoping to draw off Elsie’s attention from the 
rather personal nature of the old woman’s last remark, and 
which he feared might annoy her. 

The walk to the Hermitage from the cottage usually oc- 
cupied Elsie three-fourths of an hour, but on this occasion 
more than an hour elapsed, so slowly did they proceed. 
Adolph had much to tell about his plans, and also of the 
work they were going to engage in. It seemed that the 
party was destined for Southern New Mexico, where they 
were to spend the winter, at or in the vicinity of the United 
States camp located there. The climate would permit their 
working nearly all winter, principally in geological investi- 
gations, and in preparing for the coming spring and sum- 
mer campaign. Her companion seemed full of his topic, 
but Elsie could see that he dwelt on these matters in order 
to avoid rewerting to more painful ones, doubtless fearing a 
return of the emotions which had so nearly overcome him 
a short time since. “ But,” she asked, finally, when he had 
given a somewhat glowing description of the country and 
work before them, “is there not great peril from those 
dreadful Apaches and other Indian tribes about there ? ” 

“ Oh, there are plenty of the red men there, no doubt,” 
and she thought she discerned a gleam in his eyes and a 
ring in his voice, as if the excitement of this danger were one 
of the fascinations of the expedition, as affording a possible 
distraction to the restless, feverish something which seemed 
to be undermining his peace. 

That walk was never forgotten by either of them, but 
remained as a deep line or thread having a peculiar tint of 


516 


THE EUSSIAH REFUGEE. 


its own and quite different from the rest of the woof which 
Time with his rapid shuttle wove into the warp of their 
lives. And yet it was not for what was said, as, apart from 
Adolph’s sketches of the new work and settlement, the 
conversation was filled with commonplaces, but there was 
a deep undercurrent of thought and feeling and question 
and answer going on, which filled hearts and minds to 
running over, and made days and weeks of preceding and 
after ordinary life seem cheap and barren and desert-like 
in comparison. Truly, “we live in thoughts, not years ; in 
feelings, not in figures on a dial,” and “ should count time 
by heart-throbs.” There are times of exalted perception 
when we become clairvoyant and read souls, not pages of 
print, and hear thoughts, not the mere verbal expression of 
them ; when intent, wish, will, spiritual aspiration take 
form as pictures on the walls of the mind’s gallery, through 
which another mind may wander unmolested ; when the 
spirit breathings reach the spirit ear in syllabified form 
too fine, too attenuated, too ethereal to affect the coarser 
sense, but to the inner perception floats intelligence, as 
by whispers of paradise. 

“ Promise me that you will not risk your life recklessly 
among those savages. I speak for your father’s sake.” And 
seeing the gratified expression on his face fade to blank 
disappointment at the conclusion of her sentence, she 
added, “For mine too, for you have been truly a friend in 
need to me, and believe me, I have not or shall not forget 
it. But your father must feel this separation much, and 
the consciousness that you were in daily peril would, I fear, 
wear the frail string on which his life hangs until it 
snapped.” 

They were standing at the gate of her home, where they 
had often stood before, but in other and more hopeful 
moods, and both felt the bitter contrast. She pleaded al- 
most tearfully with him — this wilful, strong man going far 


THE KITSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


517 


away, under an uncontrollable impulse, and in that temper 
of mind which often induces noble spirits to fling them- 
selves into the very jaws of death, in a reckless disregard 
of a life which, for some cause or another, has lost present 
value to them. She felt this, and all her pitying woman- 
hood was in arms to try and save him for home and friends. 

“ Why should I be careful of a life which has but little 
value for me or any human being ? ” he said, hoarsely, bit- 
terly. 

“ Every life is valuable, and such sentiments are not like 
you, and do not represent your true thought. Whatever 
the cause which induces this sudden resolve to abandon 
home and friends, of course I do not know, but I have faith 
enough in you to believe it is a sufficient one, yet I know 
the claims upon you here and cannot but believe that be- 
fore long you will feel their weight, and return to us. Prom- 
ise me what I ask you ? ” and she laid her hand upon his 
arm. 

‘‘ I can refuse you nothing, and yet I would rather not 
have made a promise which in such a region may seriously 
trammel me. I do promise you that I will not recklessly 
endanger m'y life. But now, in return you will promise me 
something ? ” and he regarded her questioningly. 

“ I will,” she said, frankly, ‘‘ anything in reason.” 

“ Promise me that you will see my father now and then. 
Ivan will take my place and be a son to him, but he loves 
your presence, and it will be such a comfort to me when in 
that far-off wild country to know that you are with him oc- 
casionally.” 

He still looked as if he would have liked to ask further, 
and she divined his thought and, as he paused as if debat- 
ing with himself, said promptly, “ And is that all ? Why, 
I should have done that anyway. I not only promise to see 
your father every week if possible, but if you like will write 
to you of his welfare and of what takes place about here. 


518 


THE RUSSIA]^ REFUGEE. 


And you in return must tell me something about your new 
life.” 

He seized her hand and kissed it gratefully, his face 
glowing. “ Oh, if you will do this I shall be so grateful. I 
will send you my address on my arrival. I fear I have not 
time to see your father ; bid him good-by, please, for me. 
May heaven bless and keep you.” He clasped her hand, 
again touched his lips to it, and was gone, before she quite 
realized the fact that she was alone — only a dull feeling 
that the day seemed less bright than before. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


A HALF CONFESSION. 

My Dear Elsie : I liave been very ill. I suppose the shock ex- 
perienced about that abominable mine business had something to do 
with it. My head was seriously affected for a while, I am afraid. 
The doctor said I had incipient cerebritis, whatever that may mean. 
I wish these medical men would have common sense and use French 
instead of that barbarous Latin in describing diseases. What a 
shocking piece of business that mining swindle was, and what a — 
but he is your cousin, and it must be hard enough to bear the dis- 
grace without my bringing it to your memory, poor girl. And he 
seemed such a nice young man. Who is it says something somewhere 
about “ deceiving even the angels of light ? ” My memory has been 
so poor since my attack. My poor boy is, I suppose you know, with 
my brother in Chicago, and is going to learn to be a merchant. Ed- 
ward, that is my brother, keeps an immense clothing establishment 
there and agreed to try Koland. His father and he had what lluskin 
calls a square talk, and he insisted that the poor boy should either 
enter business or study a profession at once, and so Roland wrote to 
his uncle to ask for a position in his store. My brother has old- 
fashioned notions, and is, I fear, a little hard on young men, and 
was not willing at first to agree to it, but finally said he would try 
him on condition that he begin at the very bottom of the ladder. 
Think of my Roland with his ability having to begin at the bottom 
of the ladder, among those vulgar shop-boys ! It is a dreadful trial 
for a mother, you must know, only you cannot see it as a mother 
can. I do not know for certain, but I am afraid that Mr. Lewis 
sometimes asks him to sweep out the store. I am not sure of this ; 
it seems too dreadful ! If I thought he was required to do such 
menial work I should feel it my duty to remonstrate, only I know 
Ruskin would not permit me, for he only laughed when I hinted 
my suspicions, and said that the young man must win his spurs, and 


620 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE, 


he may as well begin cleaning and polishing those that belong to 
other people first. That sounded something like slang, and I told 
him so, and he laughed again. Mr. St. Johns came of a good family 
on his father's side— the Commodore, of Revolutionary times, you 
know — but his mother’s people were (of course, my dear, this be- 
tween ourselves) only plain, respectable farmers. Excellent people, 
but of necessity not very refined. These things are to be regretted, 
for do what you will, it does show in the descendants. I always say 
to mj^ girls, Never make a mesalliance, whatever you do. I’m not 
afraid of Angelina ; she believes in family, but I sometimes do have 
a mother’s anxiety for Alfarina — she is so democratic in her tastes. 
Ic is the Williams blood, I am afraid, showing itself. 

Is it true that all is at an end between you and Roland ? He told 
me so, poor fellow, and was dreadfully affected by it. I feared he 
would have a nervous fever, and insisted on his seeing Dr. Bellows. 
He is very fond of you, Elsie, and I had hoped that you would 
learn to love him. Married life would have settled him, I am sure, 
and cured those little defects of character which I suppose annoyed 
you. Forgive an old friend, but are you not just a little old maidish 
about such things, my dear Elsie ? Young men must sow their 
wild oats, and they always make the better husbands afterward. 
Oh, well, I suppose your mind is made up, so I will not urge the 
point. But let me, as your mother’s friend as well as your own — and 
you know I look on you as a daughter — let me beg of you not to 
make a m'esalUance. I have heard whisperings, mind you I do not 
believe them, pointing that way, about a certain Russian having been 
seen frequently in your company. Do not, my dear, I entreat you, 
allow your sense of gratitude to blind your judgment in these mat- 
ters. Some obligation you doubtless are .under to those people, but 
I should think that a substantial pecuniary recompense might be 
judiciously employed to remove that. He is a worthy young man, 
no doubt, but entirely inferior to you in every way, and then, too, he 
is much older than you, and 5"oung girls are apt to be attracted by 
the superior intelligence and knowledge of the world of men con- 
siderably older than themselves, although in this case the mental 
superiority is on the other side. Not that I consider the fact of a 
man being older, indeed much older than a lady, is an insuperable 
objection to marriage ; indeed, in very many cases it is a positive ad- 
vantage, for most girls make better wives when the husband has 
larger experience and knowledge of life, and time alone can bring 
this. The most serious bar is inferior education and family. But 


THE HUSSIAH KEFtlGEE. 


521 


you will think I am becoming prosy, and so I will close this long 
letter. Now write me at length and tell me about everything. Kind- 
est regards to your dear father. With love and kisses from all, 

Sincerely yours, 

Lelia St. Johjs^s. 


Elsie had generally shown such letters to her father, as 
having equal interest for both, but somehow she shrunk 
from letting him see this one. However, she was not 
forced to decide this matter immediately as Mr. Hastings 
was away from home and would not, so the note in pencil 
on the library table informed his daughter, return until din- 
ner at six o’clock. She re-read the letter of her friend, and 
decided to answer it at once, as she had yet an hour at her 
disposal before dinner. She knew w’ell the epistle was 
penned with a definite pui’pose, and that was hinted in the 
latter half. Some natural indignation animated her as she 
took up her pen and wrote the reply. 


The Hermitage, October 30, 18 — 
My Dear Friend : Long letters are so rare, these times, that you 
deserve especial thanks for yours, which reached me an hour since. 
Give your correspondent credit for promptness in replying. I am 
delighted to know of Roland’s good fortune, for although I may be a 
little old-maidish about it, I cannot help feeling that the worst mis- 
fortune in this world for a young man is to be idle, or, at any rate, to 
have no regular business to engage head and hands. As to sweeping 
out the store, that won’t hurt him a bit, but rather help to give him 
an appetite and offset more intellectual work. About sowing wild 
oats. Surely you are not in earnest in thinking that such a thing is 
necessary for a man any more than for a woman. Is it essential 
that a young man should spend a portion of the bright opening years 
of his manhood in dissipation or careless, reckless practices ? Surely 
experience of the world and necessary knowledge sufficient for ordi- 
nary needs can be acquired without such expenditure of vital power, 
such peril to body and soul, as comes from selfish dissipation— for 
that is what I have been taught to understand is conveyed in the ex- 


522 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


pression, “go wing wild oats.” Surely it does not stand to reason to 
believe that, after a man has led a life of unrestrained self-indulgence 
for a time, he is likely to make a better, much less as good a 
husband as if he had led a self-denying, correct life. Such a theory 
is monstrous to me, and subverts all the moral teaching I have ever 
listened to, and, moreover, is so opposed to my own natural instincts 
that I cannot believe it, nor think that you do either. The man I 
marry must have led as pure a life as myself, so far as I can tell, and 
I would rather remain an old maid to the end of my career than 
marry a man, no matter what his education and family standing, 
who, ignoring conscience and duty, yielded to his appetites and 
dragged his life through the slums of sensual indulgence. I loathe 
and abhor these dissipated, selfish wretches more than I can express, 
feeling sure that they make brutal domestic tyrants after marriage, 
whatever the world may say to the contrary. I write with warmth 
on this subject, for, as you may remember, a dear friend of mine 
was sacrificed to one of these specimens of humanity who had spent 
his time before his marriage in sowing his wild oats. The only “ mes- 
alliance,” to use your term, that I recognize, is the union of a pure- 
minded girl with one of these Uase men of society who has offered 
up the best powers and possibilities of his manhood on the altar of 
self-gratification, and has nothing left but the ashes of an ill-spent 
career to give in exchange for what she has sacrificed to or for him. 
Roland has escaped, I trust, all danger of becoming such an one as 
I have been alluding to, but like all young men of large social in- 
stincts and plenty of leisure, he has been placed in great peril. As 
to any fancied attachment he may have had for me, I am sure his 
good sense has shown him how totally unsuited we are to each other, 
and he will have little trouble in forgetting me, other than as a friend 
who always will be interested to know of his welfare. Believe me, I 
am forever grateful for the kindness of heart which prompts you to 
advise me, even though I may not always see my way to following 
out the suggestions. Being left motherless at so early an age, and 
so thrown much on my own resources, I have developed a self-re- 
liance which does, I fear, frequently shock that estimable old lady, 
Madam Grundy. However, so long as I have the privilege of my 
father’s counsel and of yours, too, my dear friend, I hope I shall never 
wander so far from the highway but what I can easily return to it. 
Let me say, in conclusion, in reference to one item in your letter, 
that there are some obligations which money can never repay, and 
that there are some people to whom the tender of pecuniary recom- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 523 

pense for kindness conferred would be a |ross insult. With love to 
Mr. St Johns and the girls, I am, my dear madam, 

Your sincere friend, 

Elsie Hastings. 

P. 6. — Tell Alf she owes me a letter, and she knows it, too, and I 
have a rod in pickle for her, to be used unsparingly if said letter 
does not come soon. E. H. 

Just as tlie letter was finished Mr. Hastings entered the 
library, bringing a long letter from Louisa Thompson to 
Elsie, which had been enclosed to Mrs. Seaman, and handed 
by the doctor to his uncle whom he had met on the road. 
There being scant time to prepare for dinner, the young 
lady postponed reading the English epistle until the even- 
ing, expecting a treat in its perusal. 

“ You are looking somewhat pale and careworn, my 
child ; has anything unusual occurred to vex you ? ” asked 
Mr. Hastings when they met at dinner. 

How difficult always to tell the truth, the whole truth, 
and nothing but the truth, and Elsie felt this at the mo- 
ment, but she smothered the emotion roused by her fa- 
ther’s words, and answered bravely : “ Yes, papa, I have 
been somewhat troubled to-day, for one of our friends, to 
whom we are much indebted, has left us for an indefinite 
time to engage in what, I fear, is a very perilous enter- 
prise." 

Her parent regarded her fixedly for a while after she 
ceased speaking, not unkindly, that was impossible — but as 
if asking the inner meaning behind her words, and then 
answered quietly : “You refer to the younger Russian. 
Your cousin Warren told me of this a couple of hours since. 
He said that Mr. Adolph was, to use his own expression, 
‘fretting his heart out here’ about something, and that in 
his opinion he had acted very wisely. I entirely coincide 
with Warren in this, for Adolph’s position here was too in- 
definite and anomalous, active though he was in the limited 


524 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


circle he moved in, to satisfy any man of worthy aspiration. 
He asked my advice about this offer, some days since, and 
on due reflection I urged him to accept it His doing so 
has elevated him in my estimation considerably, although,” 
noticing her surprised look, “I have always thought well 
of him. But to think of a strong, capable man like him 
passing his hfe in hunting and trapping ! He is fit for some 
larger work, and I told him so. ” 

“But his father, at his great age, and so devoted as they 
are to each other — and then the wild country he has'gone 
to, living among those savages. It does seem to my mind 
an exceedingly wild undertaking,” expostulated the daugh- 
ter in a voice suggesting that the excitement of the after- 
noon’s experience had not yet quile subsided. 

“ Well, my dear, let us not discuss this matter now, or it 
may spoil your dinner. We will resume the topic when 
we retire to the library. Tell me about Mrs. St. Johns’ 
letter. I understood you to say 3"ou had received one from 
her?” Elsie told the leading points of the fashionable 
ladj^’s epistle, and of her answer. This filled the dinner- 
hour conversation, and as, indeed, neither was very hun- 
giy, the time spent at table was shorter than usual, and 
they soon found themselves in the librar3^ “Elsie,” said 
the gentleman, after a short silence, in which each seemed 
to be buried in individual reflections : “ I do not wish to ask 
an unwilling confidence, but you well know, my child, that 
3"our happiness is my dearest concern. Now something to- 
day has occuiTed to seriously disturb you, for the tears were 
not yet dried on your cheeks when I entered the house. 
Do 3"ou reall}' feel the departure of this young Eussian so 
much ? Act frankly with me, my daughter, for I ask the 
question solely in your interest, but yet do not press you 
for an answer, unless you so desire.” 

The tall, almost queenly form of the daughter shook as 
if with suppressed emotion, the lustrous dark ej^es grew 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


525 


dim with tears, and the delicate brown of the cheek took 
on a deeper hue, before the answer came. ’Twas but an 
instant, however, that she thus yielded to what her natu- 
rally strong nature told her was a weakness, and then she 
rose and faced her parent. “ I do feel it, father, very much, 
for he has entered largely into my life of late, and it is but 
natural that I should feel such a sudden departure. You 
have always taught me that the natural emotions and 
higher sentiments are nothing to be ashamed of — on the 
contrary, are the best and noblest part of us, and so I do 
not hesitate to say that my intercourse with these friends 
has done much to shape and color my life during the past 
few months.” 

She resumed her seat, and again there was a silence for a 
brief period. Finally IVIr. Hastings looked toward his 
daughter, and she detected, with the quick eye of affection, 
the somewhat troubled expression of his face as he asked : 
“ Did Adolph say anything special to you, I mean in the 
way of expressing his feelings toward you, or seek to bind 
you by any promise before leaving ? ” 

“ Nothing of the kind passed between us, and so far as 
that is concerned, I mean any formal or oVert act on his 
part, we occupy the position we always have — friends only.” 

“ Thank you, my dear, you have reheved me very much. 
I feared matters had gone further than that. It was very 
honorable of him, very honorable indeed!” and his old 
cheerful manner came back, and he showed by tone and 
expression how relieved he felt. So the subject dropped 
between father and daughter, each breathing more freely 
that here at least was no longer any secret between them, 
and they tacitly agreed not to refer to it again unless ab- 
solutely necessary. But Elsie felt that, much as she knew 
her wise parent liked and esteemed the friend in question, 
yet for some inexplicable reason he did not desire to come 
into any closer relationship with him; and long and ear- 


526 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


nestly she questioned, in the silence of her own bosom, 
why, but no answer came. 

The letter from Louisa was as bright and lively as the 
merry Enghsh girl herself. She wrote of “ father,” and his 
doings in the City and his trips to the Continent on busi- 
ness, and of “ mother ” and home, and of the brother and 
his graduation at Cambridge, not forgetting old Selah 
Betty at the cottage. Then she came to the pith of her 
letter, which concerned the trial of Harry Esmond at the 
Old Bailey in London. “We were dreadfully concerned 
on your account, and I only speak of it now because it will 
of course reach you through the newspapers. Father was 
there one day, and said the prisoner was the most careless 
and indifferent-looking man in the room. He was ably 
defended, but the evidence was too conclusive. The judge, 
in passing sentence, said that it was not safe for society to 
have such a very clever criminal at large, and that the ability 
the prisoner had displayed in doing wrong would, if it had 
been rightly directed, have given him position and influ- 
ence as a valuable member of society. He was condemned 
to fifteen years’ penal servitude. I hope you do not mind 
this too much, Elsie, as you or your family are in no way 
accountable. As father says, ‘ Any tree may have a rotten 
branch.’ But still, it is a great pity ; such a handsome, 
lively fellow.” The rest of the letter was gossipy, giving 
hints of flirtations and sundry experiences which indicated 
that in one way or another Louisa Thompson was trying to 
enjoy life in her day and generation. She vaguely* alluded 
to a certain naval officer who was often at the Yews, who, 
Elsie inferred from the tone and rather frequent reference 
to him in the concluding sentences, was specially attracted 
by the vivacious daughter, although, as the writer tried to 
imply, “ he only came to see papa.” 


CHAPTER XLV. 


HOPE DEFERRED. 

WiNTEB, after many threatening messages and bravado, 
had at last declared war and fairly invaded the noi-thern 
regions. After some preliminary skirmishes between op- 
posing forces in the upper air, the elemental strife had 
finally culminated in a grand battle — a general engagement, 
one might say — and the grim old tyrant having conquered 
as usual, the white banner, everywhere hung out, showed a 
cessation of hostilities, and for a time peace reigned su- 
preme. Yes, that exquisite repose and quiet which suc- 
ceeds a terrific storm, that delicious sense of absolute rest 
which comes to the senses, that marked absence of noise, 
especially, which a big snow-storm that has been promising 
long and finally come, covering the whole face of things, 
induces, was peculiarly perceptible on this Christmas 
morning, when the young mistress of the Hermitage opened 
the hall-door and peered out into the thin gray air. Snow, 
snow everywhere. It seemed as if some mischievous Ariel 
or Puck had been abroad creating a transformation scene, 
a regular phantasmagoria for the eyes of early risers. An 
invading army — an army of occupation, indeed — it appeared 
to the young lady who stood drinking in the soft, cold air, 
and the fascinating scene too, with keen enjoyment. Every 
bush looked like a bivouac, every tree a fortification, and 
the hedges like long, low lines of defensive ramparts ; for 
the Hermitage could boast of some grand old hedges, that 
might have yie(} with those of merrie England— represept?!'’ 


528 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


tives of the taste and skill of the founder of the estate, the 
ancient Eussian. Presently Elsie perceived a horseman 
working his way slowly through the heavy snow — which 
was up to the body of the steed, so deeply had it drifted 
into the avenue — toward the house. He was quite close 
before she noticed him, for nature had with talismanic 
skill almost annihilated sound, and the labored breathing 
of the animal, and the clink of the steel rings on the bit, 
first gave warning to her ear. 

“ Ivan Petrovitch ! ” she exclaimed, in astonishment, 
“ what a morning to be out so early ! ” 

The Eussian answered with a smile : “ Yes, miss, a very 
bad morning ; ” and then, as if doubtful as to the use of 
the adjective, added, “ I mean a very naughty morning.” 

The use of the second adjective appealed strongly to 
Elsie’s risibilities, but restraining her inclination to laugh, 
she answered cheerily, “But this is nothing to you, Ivan, 
after Siberia ? ” 

His brow darkened at the word. “ No, no, Siberia is what 
you say, horrid ; this is good. My horse feels it hard, he is 
a — tired.” And he patted the neck of the panting creature, 
from whose heaving sides and dilating nostrils a cloud of 
vapor showed in the frosty December air. He handed her 
a letter, having dismounted for the purpose. “From 
Adolph Kuprianoff,” he said, softly. “ The Chief would like 
to see you soon. He feels very bad for Adolph being gone. 
Will you tell Hiram when you come ? ” 

“ Yes, I will. But won’t you have your horse put in the 
stable, and come in and have breakfast with us? and then I 
will write a note to the Patriarch — I mean the Chief.” 

“ Thank you, but no, I will wait here ; I have had break- 
fast.” 

As she could not persuade him to alter his resolution, 
Elsie entered the house and, sitting by the open fire in the 
hall, she read the letter hastily, and then peuiied a Rote to 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


529 


the father of the writer, for the letter was from the absent 
Adolph, and gave it wdth her own hand to Ivan, who stood 
awaiting it outside with true Muscovite patience. “Thank 
5’'Ou so much, Ivan, for coming this morning through all 
this snow. How is Nadia and my little Sophia too ? Stay, 
you must take her something for me.” And she ran back 
through the hall and into the library, and at once returned 
with a magazine full of gaily colored pictures, which she 
judged would give great delight to the little Cave girl. 
Ivan was profuse in his thanks, some of them being ex- 
pressed in his native tongue and by gesture, however, as 
his vocabulary of English was limited ; but what he did 
speak was well pronounced and the w^ords fairly well 
chosen, the Russians in this respect being much superior 
to most other Europeans in learning the language of the 
gi’eat Republic. 

The letter which Elsie now re-read, with more delibera- 
tion, was as foUow^s : 

Bear CA>rp, December 1, 18 — . 

My Dear Miss Hastings: If you knew the emotions flooding my 
entire being at tbe sight of your name, although traced by myself, 
the thousand memories of father, home, and friends, and of delight- 
ful hours spent — winged hours, which fly to and fro in the azure 
heavens of memory — you would, I know, in your kindness of heart, 
pity my loneliness. For I am one of a little handful of humanity 
in the midst of a wilderness. Nature, imposing, grand, terrific on 
every side, but, brooding in solemn majesty over all — the Spirit of 
silence and desolation. Only five of us in a world of marvels. Broad 
plateaus, seven to eight thousand feet above the sea-level. Moun- 
tain chains of vast elevation, with here and there isolated peaks touch- 
ing the very clouds, stupendous and awe-inspiring in their wondrous 
altitude and eternal stillness. For some of these vast upheavings of 
nature’s wild volcanic ire, as they probably are, are actually, by our 
measurement, as high as the far-famed pride of the European Alps, 
Mont Blanc itself. No feeling but that of religious emotion, adora- 
tion of the Supreme-worship, seems fitting in presence of these 
illimitable altars of God. For who, standing in this cathedral, its 
34 


530 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


dome the sky, carved with the tracery of the clouds, and with these 
shrines of immensity before him, the great plateaus near, like vast 
communion tables spread — can forbear to worship ? Then, too, the 
canons — what tongue or pen can adequately describe these seemingly 
fathomless abysses cut through the everlasting hills ? For the 
mighty Colorado, and other streams flowing southward, have, during 
the countless ages of the past, channelled out and worn enormous 
gullies or canons, as our Spanish friends here call them, to a depth 
in some places of many thousands of feet. The Grand Canon of the 
Colorado is truly appalling in its utter dreariness, extraordinary va- 
riety of phenomena, and unspeakable magnitude. Think of a fur- 
row, cut by the ploughshare of Time, four hundred miles long and 
walled on^ach side perpendicularly by gigantic masses, uprising for 
the most part fifteen hundred to six thousand feet into the ether ! 
The mind fairly shudders in such contemplation, and one feels to be 
a particle, a speck, a mite cast athwart immensity. But I must pause 
and apologize for thus plunging into a wild description of a countr}'- 
you have never seen, and can feel but little interest in, instead of 
asking about your welfare, and that of your kind father and other 
mutual friends. I can only plead, in extenuation of such a freak, 
that I have just returned from exploring this wonderful canon, and 
so completely saturated with the amazing sights and experiences I 
have had, that I cannot talk or think of anything else. It seems to 
me I must experience the sensation of one who has been privileged 
to look into an inspired volume, and has found therein a revelation 
which has opened another gate to heaven, and widened beyond ex- 
pression the horizon of his being. The geologic treasures which are 
exhibited to the inquiring eye are almost endless, this unrivalled canon 
showing most of the formations, from the underlying granite to the 
upper carboniferous limestone — a very museum of antiquity, a veri- 
table treasure-house of wisdom. But there I am off on my hobby 
again, and shall weary you to death. 

How are you, my dear friend, and all the loved ones at home ? 
Have you seen my father lately, and is the dear old man holding his 
own physically ? — I have no fears of him mentally. I fear you have 
heard no word from me since I left, but I wrote immediately to you 
and my father on my arrival in New Mexico, as this entire region is 
called, but fear that our scout who carried the letters, bearing at the 
same time some government despatches from the fort, fell into the 
hands of the Indians, as nothing has been heard of him since, and 
iip opportunity has occurred to send a second letter until to-day. So 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


531 


you see I kept my promise, although appearances were much against 
me. For myself, I have been so crowded with work of one kind and 
another that, apart from the wild desire to know how you all are 
which occasionally takes possession of me and renders me almost 
desperate, I have liardly had time to seriously think of anything 
outside. I think it will be my salvation, for I could not have much 
longer endured the mental strife which was raging within me when 
I left home. To leave was truly like wrenching soul and body asun- 
der — but although a sharp, it was, I am satisfied, the true, and in- 
deed only, remedy. The Indians are our perpetual peril, and many 
a narrow escape I have had in saving my scalp. I think I can say 
that I owe you my life ; for, in the condition of mind resulting from 
brooding over my aimless life and trammelled condition in which I 
came here, coupled with my natural indifference to danger, I am 
satisfied that long ere this my scalp would be adorning the wigwam 
of some brave, had not the promise you exacted been ever in my 
memory as a restraining influence. 

We are located about one hundred miles north of the Gila River, 
and about fifty miles east of the Colorado. The latter is a fine 
stream, and navigable for nearly six hundred miles — from its mouth, 
where it enters the Gulf of California, to the beginning of the Great 
Canon, spoken of before. It is called Colorado from the reddish 
tinge of its waters. It is famous for its canons, and its sudden and 
startling changes of form and nature. When I tell you that this 
stream, which at one time will be seen flowing calmly with a width 
of three hundred or more yards, will suddenly compress itself be- 
tween granite walls to a width of twenty yards, you can have some 
idea of the perils of navigation. This is a delightful climate during 
the winter months, and quite a contrast to what, no doubt, is your ex- 
perience now. But I must close this long, rambling epistle, asking, 
my dear friend, that you will lend your gentle presence and kind in- 
fluences to comfort and cheer my aged parent, that he may not too 
much miss the dutiful attention of which he is deprived by the way- 
wardness of his son. Kindest regards to your father— I much regret 
I did not see him on leaving. For you, to whom I owe so much, I 
can only say that my life and service are yours — a consecration to past 
memories— and so, as Nadia would say in our Russian fashion, Slava 
Bogu. 

Yours sincerely and gratefully, 

Adolph Kuprianoff, 


532 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


The winter had come to stay, and the snow packed and 
hardened until in a day or so a splendid sleighing founda- 
tion was laid, and the light vehicles, with their jingling 
bells, were flying in every direction. To Elsie’s delight, 
her father on the third day after Ivan’s visit told her to 
wrap up well and he would take her to the Cave, calling 
for Hiram, whom he had notified previously, on the way. 
In a few moments they were speeding merrily over the 
frozen ground. Mr. Hastings had noted, with the keen 
eyes of affection, that Elsie was looking rather pale of late, 
and a gravity which was foreign to her was observable in 
her demeanor. Ella Seaman, who was frequently with her, 
had perceived this too, and, with a woman’s quick percep- 
tion, had partly divined the cause, and tried to win her con- 
fidence in the line of her suspicion. But it was a signal 
failure. Although the frankest of mortals with reference 
to everything else, Elsie could not be coaxed or persuaded 
to lift the veil from the hidden grief which her friend was 
satisfied existed. If her father really suspected the source 
of the loss of physical tone and somewhat sobered mien of 
his child he gave no sign by word or deed to her or to 
others. He had frequently in conversation with his friend 
St. Johns expressed his opinion that there were certain 
phases of experience which all young people have to go 
through before they come to know themselves and settle 
down to their life-work, and obtain a firm grasp of reality. 

Inevitable, I think, to young men and women, as having 
measles is to boys and girls. Of course, some do not have 
the measles, or have them after maturity, and so it is with 
these peculiar emotional experiences — some escape, but they 
are few.” Elsie had escaped the childhood affection, but 
it may be he thought she was not going to be so fortunate 
with reference to the later possibility. 

As the horse was checked at the cottage door the trap- 
per came out, followed by his spouse, the faithful Gretchen, 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


53B 


•who smiled all over, in a sense, so beaming and friendly did 
she appear. “ Ob, Mees Elsie, you have von letter from 
Meester Adolph. I so glad — I know he vould write. He 
von fine shentlemen, he is.” 

Elsie smiled and nodded with a somewhat brighter 
color than even the brisk drive had brought to her cheeks, 
for she was conscious her father was looking at her, and 
this consciousness had an effect which the words might 
not have had. She had not shown him the letter, although 
she had told him of it, and given Adolph’s message, and 
now she half feared that he might suspect that the letter 
contained that which she did not care for him to see, and 
this annoyed her so much that she immediately said : ‘‘1 
must show you that letter, father — I know you will be in- 
terested in the description Mr. Adolph gives of the Colo- 
rado canons.” 

“Just as you please, my dear. But you can read me any 
part you hke.” 

“ No, you shall read it all for yourself,” she said, with an 
impetuosity which she felt a moment later was utterly out 
of proportion to the importance of the matter of reading 
a simple letter. But she was vexed that possibly her father 
thought she had rather not show it. 

The “ Giraffe ” w^as unusually quiet as they drove along, 
but finally burst out with, “ Burned ef I believe th’ old one’s 
long fur this world.” 

His companions looked at him with astonishment. 

“Why, Hiram, what do you mean?” said Elsie, in alarm. 
“ Surely it is not the Patriarch you are speaking of ? ” 

“Yaas, Mees Elsie,” responded the trapper, and he 
looked consciously guilty, as if he had spoken unwisely. 
“ But I alius was a fool to speak out sudden-like. Maybe 
’tain’t so mortal bad as I’d a thought, but sartin the old 
man’s a-failing. Kinder hankers arter his boy, I guess.” 

“It may only be a little temporary ill-health, which at his 


534 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


great age appears of more importance than it would in a 
younger person,” said Mi\ Hastings to his daughter, who 
looked quite shocked. 

“ TheUs it, friend Alf. It’s sorter sure he can’t nowise live 
forever, an he’s most thet now.” 

The sleigh was left hitched at a short distance from the 
cave entrance, and the party proceeded on foot. There was 
a sort of natural porch formed by the outcropping of the 
rock above and laterally from the main mass of the rise of 
the hill in front of which they halted. Into this porch or 
room they entered, seeing nothing but the dark-gray tint of 
the rough stone forming three sides and the roof of the 
rude chamber, if such it could be termed, in which they 
stood. It resembled one of those Caches or natural shel- 
ters resorted to so much by hunters and others accustomed 
to roam in such regions in pursuit of game or other moun- 
tain products. At the rear of the apartment the solid mass 
of the mountain side loomed, seemingly impenetrable. 
However, a closer inspection showed that this rear wall was 
fissured by deep crevices dividing the surface irregularly 
into several superficial sections. The central one was about 
five feet high and on an average three feet broad, being 
much wider above than below. The “ Giraffe,” after in- 
specting this for an instant, pressed on the left upper 
corner with considerable force, and to their surprise the 
visitors saw the great section of rock slowly revolve, leaving 
an opening into the hill side, showing a dark passage 
beyond. 

‘‘Ivan’ll be long with them air pitch pines sooner’n yer 
kin wink. Guess he’s to hum an’ heerd us,” said the trap- 
per, as they paused in front of the passage, explaining at the 
same time how that the pressure on the stone in a certain 
way sounded a bell in the cave, notifying the inmates, who, 
if satisfied as to the visitor, caused the rock-door to revolve 
by means of a curious bit of machinery, invented by the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


535 


old Russian. In short, this cave dwelling was an under- 
ground fortress, which the expenditure of considerable 
money and ingenuity had rendered almost absolutely secure 
from intrusion, and as a habitation quite comfortable. 
Nature had, of course, done the most arduous and important 
work in tunnelling out these subterranean rooms and pas- 
sages, and art had supplemented her work in transforming 
a rude, although in a sense curious and beautiful, cave into 
a comfortable residence. Soon they saw lights gleaming in 
the distant darkness, and presently Ivan appeared with his 
swarthy face glowing in the torch-light, and his “Slava 
Bogu,” in welcome salutation. “ Guess Ivan’ll see yer 
through, an’ I’ll tend th’ animal. Say, friend Alf, what 
time’ll thee be suited to go hum ? ” 

Mr. Hastings looked toward his daughter, who said, 
“ Two hours, father, I think, will give us ample time.” 

Stepping into the passage way the huge stone noiselessly 
revolved and they, shut up in the mountain, each with a 
candle in hand, cautiously followed the flaring torch of their 
guide. In a few moments they were in the familiar room and 
surrounded by the members of this strange, isolated, but 
most interesting little family, living on year after year shut 
up in the recesses of the earth, and so utterly segregated 
from the outside world. The Patriarch was changed, that 
Elsie saw at once, and the tears started to her eyes as she 
thought of Hiram’s blunt words. He rose as she entered, 
but did not advance as formerly to meet her. Yet there was 
the same bright, beaming look of peace and benevolence upon 
the aged face, and the same kind, genial voice of welcome. 

“ My daughter, how kind of you to come again, and your 
father, too. It seems long since you favored us with your 
presence, Mr. Hastings, in our, no doubt to you, strange 
home.” 

Mr. Hastings greeted the old man cordially. “It is 
some months, I believe, but still not so very long since we 


536 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


met. How are you feeling to-day. I suppose the winter is 
rather trying to you ? ” 

“Not that, for as you perceive we have a summer tem- 
perature here and are as comfortable as those in the man- 
sions above ground. Old age is the foe that I have to en- 
tertain as a guest. And yet he is kind, a very generous 
enemy, but the citadel cannot hold out forever against the 
watchful antagonists around, aided by the enfeebling pres- 
ence of the one within. No hope of raising the siege, my 
friends, in this case, and the garrison must wisely prepare 
for speedy capitulation. Yet if we are allowed to march 
out with the honors of war, retaining our side arms, we 
shall be satisfied. In other words, let death come, I am 
ready, and only ask that I may retain my reasoning powers, 
with memory, sight, and hearing, to the end.” 

]\Ir. Hastings noticed how thoroughly matters had been 
put in winter trim. On the side facing the Ravine the 
great wide mouth of the cave was now a huge window, a 
broad framework of glass and iron against which the storm 
could beat harmlessly. A roaring fire sent abundant light 
and warmth in every direction, and ventilation was pro- 
vided for by pipes communicating with the outside. 
Nadia and Sophie had, after the salutations had been made, 
carried off Elsie into the inner room, so the Exile’s remarks 
were addressed to Mr. Hastings. The others now re- 
turned, the little maiden clinging to the hand of her friend, 
to her the representative of the vast world outside of which 
she knew so little. “ I know ever so much English, Miss 
Elsie, I talk with grandfather every day. Uncle Adolph 
used to teach me until he went away, and now grandfather 
hears my English lesson ; ” and so she prattled on, showing 
remarkable progress, and demonstrating the peculiar fa- 
cility with which the Sclavonic race can acquire certain 
foreign tongues, especially the English. 

At the mention of his son’s name by the child, the old 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


537 


man had looked up wistfully, and presently said : “I miss 
Adolph more than I like to acknowledge. The tie which 
binds us is a peculiai’ one. To me he is my child, resur- 
rected — ‘ my son, who was dead, made alive again, the lost 
found ’ as an old scripture has it. To others who cannot 
view matters as I do, Adolph is simply my adopted child.” 

“ I have heard you speak of this matter before, and to me 
it is at least a curious phase of belief ; but is the proof of 
this rebirth really full and complete to you both. Is Adolph 
as satisfied on the point as you seem to be ? ” said Mr. 
Hastings. 

“ Yes, and, as might be expected, in some respects it is 
clearer to him than to me. I fear growing tedious on this 
point and repeating what I have said in your hearing be- 
fore, but as I approach the end of my earthly journey these 
matters become clearer and clearer and occupy my thoughts, 
often to the exclusion of everything else. I see that this 
world, this life, is able to develop a man up to a certain 
point, as exhibited in the best specimens of the race, and 
that souls must be returned here until that development, or 
at least such development as they are susceptible of, has been 
accomplished. This planet is but a link in a great chain of 
worlds which form an ascending series, a graded develop- 
ment for the sentient children of the Supreme.” 

‘‘Let me ask a question in the line of your thought, sir. 
Do you expect to return again to this world ? ” and the 
speaker waited the reply with some curiosity, as did also 
his daughter. 

The old man smiled. “I do not. Something tells me my 
human probation is finished. Many times have I entered 
by the gateway of births on this sphere, but I think I have 
now received the training earth can give me. I do not as- 
sert this positively, for I may return, but a repeated experi- 
ence of life gives us this knowledge. Leaders, teachers, 
prophets, the inspired ones in all the ages, are, as I have said 


538 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


once before, merely the elder sons of earth ; and the stupid, 
the ignorant, the slow, as well as the reckless life-wasters, 
can look forward — if such prevision can come to such per- 
sons — to a period when the sharp discipline of repeated life 
here has developed their dull minds, aroused susceptibility 
and conscience, and earned for them reputation, respect, 
reverence. The old Mother Earth will always clasp to her 
bosom representative sons, the fruit of many generations of 
life here. I do not claim that my thoughts on this subject 
are new. I am rejoiced to say they are as old in some form 
or another as the race. Many of the ancient as well as 
modern teachers have hinted at this rebirth as a probability 
or a necessity, but with me it is no mere speculation as with 
them ; it is knowledge based upon intuition and belief, veri- 
fied by laborious and varied observation.” 

“ But, father,” ventured Elsie, “does not the long yeai's 
of childhood and youth seem almost a waste of time if one 
so enters the world for a second, third, or fourth life ? If we 
could be reborn full-grown men or women, and so start 
from where we left off, it would seem better.” 

“My daughter, and so start with the prejudices, and 
predispositions, and vicious tendencies of the old life, which 
would prove too strong for us, for we should inevitably 
merely repeat the former experience, and so nothing be 
gained, but rather much be lost, as old habits and tenden- 
cies would be confirmed and emphasized ? No, my child ; 
this new gestation, so to speak, is essential in order that 
the evil may be, during these years of preliminary life of 
childhood, as far as possible, dissolved out, separated, elim- 
inated, and the good digested and assimilated. Time wasted 
you fear. What is Time ? Merely the earth-robe in which 
the eternal veils himself, and to Him there is only the ever 
present, the now. God wastes nothing. This second expe- 
rience of childhood is but the sieve through which the re- 
sults of the former life are passed — the good survives, the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


539 


evil is obliterated. The cjoiiditioiis may be such that the 
sieve cannot do its work effectually, but something will 
always be gained. The evil tendencies which have fastened, 
bamacle-like, upon some poor child of earth until prog- 
ress in the right is almost impossible, his life a curse to 
himself, and a terror and constant menace to his fellows, 
possibly cannot be reformed without several passages 
through this valley of Time. But we may be sure that re- 
incarnation will be his portion until the gold is purged 
from stain and dross so far as is necessary. The student 
who fails in examination wdll be remanded to the lower 
school until such time as progress sufficient has been made 
to permit his being received into the higher.” 

“I think I understand your meaning to be that purity of 
heart, nobility of intent — moral goodness, in short — is the 
aim of our earth life, and must be attained here if it re- 
quires fifty lives on earth or only one. And assuming such 
to be the case, it is easy to comprehend how that, as I 
think you intimated on a former occasion, a man returning 
here many times on account of moral deficiency, might ac- 
quire great wealth of intellectual knowledge and power, 
merely as a result of repetition and immense opportunity, 
and so come in process of time to be a mental phenomenon 
— a genius,” remarked the master of the Hermitage. 

“ Exactly, my son ; that is my thought. But I perceive 
the dear daughter wishes to ask a question. Speak freely, 
my child, or shall I state it for you? You cannot avoid 
the thought, that perhaps reverse conditions may prevail, 
and that a bad man reborn may have the evil in his soul 
intensified, and so become worse instead of better by con- 
tinued return to this mundane sphere ? ” and the speaker 
regarded her with a look of smiling inquiry. 

‘‘ Yes, supposing that he be reborn repeatedly amid un- 
favorable conditions,” replied Elsie to her father’s amaze- 
ment at their host’s mind-reading power. 


540 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“Under very peculiar conditions of evil such a thing 
might seem to be possible for several rebirths, but the 
influences of childhood and youth help to avert this 
danger, their tendency being to purify and develop for 
good, until finally innocence and purity, the characteristics 
of that period, neutralize the evil and soften the heart of 
the wrong-doer. You know a great teacher once said, 

‘ Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye 
cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven,’ and the attain- 
ment of the child-like spirit of trust and guileless intent is 
the end of the discipline of earth ; that accomplished our 
wings have grown, which will waft us to the higher life.” 

“But if this theory is true, how could we possibly forget 
the previous life or hves? This seems to me almost a fatal 
objection to the view,” suggested Mr. Hastings. 

“ My dear friend, it is not a theory with me and many 
others, who have full and sufficient evidence of it. But as 
to your very reasonable objection, let me ask. How much 
do you recollect of your life of say ten years ago, much less 
of twenty years since ? A mere film, a shadow, an impres- 
sion with a tolerably strong point standing out here and 
there, a tiny island or so, a mere nothing compared with 
that vast continent covered by the waters of oblivion. But 
perhaps we have dwelt long enough on this. Old men 
must have their hobbies, you know, and the gamilousness 
of age is proverbial.” 

The visitors disclaimed any weariness of the topic, and 
indeed would have liked to have asked more questions 
which naturally arose in their minds, but to please their 
host assented to his suggestion, and the conversation be- 
came general. 

It was evident that the old man was pining for his son, 
from whom he had not before been separated longer than a 
few days from the period of his adoption. Elsie’s heart ached 
for him in his bereavement, and she felt some little com- 


THE KUSSIAN EEFIIGEE. 


541 


punction, in remembering her promise to the son, that she 
had not been to see him earlier, but then she had met him 
twice since Adolph’s departure at the trapper’s cottage, and 
he was so cheerful on these occasions that she had not felt 
anxious, as she might otherwise have been. On leaving, 
the Exile declared himself much benefited by their visit, 
saying they had imparted to him magnetic life and made 
him feel younger. 

Adolph it seemed had written to his father several 
times, but no letter had reached but this last, inclosing 
the one to Elsie. 

He had given more details of his life and intentions in 
the home letter, and hinted that if the purchase of the dis- 
puted strip of territory then in negotiation between Mexico 
and the United States was completed, then the party would 
probably move south of the Gila Kiver, and make their 
headquarters at the old Spanish town of Tucson, in the 
centre of the new acquisition. “ Professor Darby, of our 
party, who has been in correspondence with Mr. James 
Gadsden, United States Minister to Mexico, who is conduct- 
ing the matter with President Santa Anna, says that un- 
doubtedly it will be accomplished,” wrote Adolph, “ al- 
though the price stipulated — ten millions of dollars — 
seems enormous to pay for a strip of country infested by 
Indians, even if, as claimed, it is as large as Pennsylvania.” 
The wiiter said further that if the purchase was announced 
in the newspapers, that letters for the future should be 
addressed to the old town of Tucson, mentioned above. 

On the return home the little Kussian maiden accom- 
panied them, Elsie having at last obtained the consent of 
the elders to keep her for one week. The child was nearly 
wild with excitement and delight. 

“ And I shall see your pretty home, and live in a house 
over the ground,” she said, repeatedly clasping the hand of 
the young lady on the journey, as they sped rapidly along. 


542 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Now, Sophie,” Elsie instructed her protegee, “ if anyone 
asks your name, or where you live, just say your name is 
Sophie, and that you live in the country some distance 
from here.” 

Secrecy as regarded the cave and its inhabitants was still 
insisted on by the Patriarch and approved by Elsie and her 
father, for although they realized that they were no longer 
in any danger from official or political sources, yet all real- 
ized that existence would be made a burden to them by 
prying, curious people if their peculiar residence and mode 
of life were once known to, or even suspected by, the 
public. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


TO SOLVE A PROBLEM. 

The heart of the winter was past, the dark days were 
over. Nature had fumed, and fretted, and stormed, but 
the sun rose every morning a trifle brighter, adding a mor- 
sel daily to the length of the hghted hours, so the flerce 
storm-king finally found himself beaten, and was com- 
pelled to succumb to the persistent advances of the con- 
queror from the south bearing the golden fleece. 

This steady march of Time, that foot-fall ever dropping 
on the great shore, at midnight, in the meridian of day, 
like the tireless tread of the sleuth-hound in his relentless 
pursuit — on, on, on ! The day may be dark and dreary, but 
Time never falters ; or joyous and full of mirth, but he 
stays not ; for the pendulum of life ever' swings its to and fro, 
and the minutes mount to hours, and the hours go to swell 
the fleeting years. No credit here, but prompt payment on 
delivery. Cash over the counter ; we give existence in 
small or large coins for everj^thing we receive. Eternity 
the bank. Time the circulating medium, of which each 
one has so much entered to his credit, and we spend and 
spend, ever drawing on our deposit, thinking it inexhaust- 
ible ; but no overdrawing the account in this bank, and the 
limit once reached, we must perforce surrender our check- 
books. 

January, February, March came and went, and now 
April was here, with its bright look forward, its promise of 
good things to come. And Elsie sat at her window, pen 


544 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


in hand, with the fair white sheet as yet untouched, lost in 
reverie, thinking of the past few months and what they 
had enwrapped for her and hers in their fleecy folds, for 
the winter had been severe, and snow and storm had held 
high carnival. ’Twas but yesterday that the brown earth 
threw off its white raiment, in which for four long months 
it had closely enshrouded itself. Four months — a brief 
period, to be sure, but in that small fraction of life how 
much can happen to mar or make us ? 

Elsie felt that these weeks which had swept so swiftly 
by on winter’s wings had been of more importance than 
their mere external showing seemed to imply. They had 
intensified and consolidated her life. They had brought 
as much inner experience as though each month had been 
a year. They had emphasized that individuality which, 
while quite a marked characteristic before, had lain com- 
paratively dormant. Her intercourse with the Cave phi- 
losopher had aroused and quickened her whole mentality. 
This ancient sage had by his original thought and Socra- 
tic way of asking questions urged her really good intellect 
to its full bent, and she felt that for the first period of her 
conscious existence she had learned the great lesson so 
often missed in our elaborate systems of modern educa- 
tional training — how to think for herself. Not to get opin- 
ions from books, nor to take the thoughts of others second- 
hand, and use them as her own, but to cope with the sub- 
ject originally, and cling to it tenaciously until light came 
in one way or another. 

In these weeks the young lady felt that she had devel- 
oped into a stronger womanhood, although the growth 
had been an almost insensible one. But the grand fact 
was patent to her — she had grown. Not a joyful period, 
these winter months now fast lapsing into the hungry jaws 
of the all-devouring past, for there had been enough sad- 
ness to cloud somewhat the sun of her life and tone the 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 545 

brightness to gray or neutral tints. This sadness was 
partly personal and partly sympathetic. 

Her aged friend’s grief for the absence of his son touched 
her deeply. To be sure, he rarely hinted his heartache, 
but Elsie felt it all the more, possibly because it touched a 
responsive chord in her own bosom. And the problem 
that filled her mind now and pressed for solution, as she 
sat by her bed-room window on this early spring morning, 
was — How should the lost one be restored to gladden and 
inspire the venerable earth-pilgrim who had so long lingered 
amid the fogs and damps of the valley of Time ? She felt 
confident, and the thought was dagger-like to her affec- 
tionate heart, that whatever was to be done must be done 
quickly. The Patriarch was slowly fading away, and his 
time in the lower life was brief. 

This was Elsie’s firm conviction as she left the Cave on 
her last visit, a few days since. No other letters had been 
received from the loved one far away, although they had 
no doubt he had written, and the dread uncertainty re- 
garding his fate was settling down like a pall on the Cave 
friends, and Elsie felt the chill of the deep shadow too, in 
little less degree, although she rarely expressed herself in 
words. 

Her meditation lasted some time, and the mental conflict 
could be detected in her expressive features. Finally, she 
rose abruptly and, throwing down paper and pen, exclaimed, 
‘‘ It is useless writing. Have I not done so three times, 
urging his return, and probably not one has reached him ? 
I will see the dear old father this very morning, and find 
out if we cannot devise some better plan.” 

A note was hastily written to Hiram, for the eccentric 
trapper could read and write fairly, although he declared 
he never knew how he learned — asking him to meet her at 
the cave entrance in three hours’ time. 

“Tell Miss Elsie— all right,” was the message brought 
35 


546 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


to her shortly after breakfast, and soon she was in the sad- 
dle urging Gyp rapidly to the place of meeting. No ab- 
stract or abstruse subjects were discussed on this occasion, 
for Elsie proceeded at once to the subject which filled her 
heart. 

After her eager and impulsive questions had brought out 
the possibilities in the case, and shown what courses could 
be followed to bring about communication between Adolph 
and his father, looking to his return home soon, she startled 
them all — for Nadia and her husband and child were pres- 
ent — by saying : But these plans, although good in them- 
selves, are too tedious. Why, it would be midsummer be- 
fore your son could be here. No, he must come before 
that. Someone must go after him and bring him home.” 

The little company opened their eyes wide with astonish- 
ment at the very mention of such a thing, but Elsie saw by 
the lighting up of the old Exile’s face aud the eager, wistful 
glance which flashed upon her from his eyes, that it was 
like sunshine to his heart, this audacious proposition of 
hers. 

“Yes, my dear daughter, your instinct is true. If 
Adolph does not arrive before midsummer he will not see 
me in the flesh, and I do so long to see him once more,” 
and the aged features exhibited an emotion that was but 
rarely visible there, and the hands worked nervously. It was 
but for a moment, but spoke more than a volume of words. 

“You naturally inquire, who will go? ” continued Elsie, 
as she stood in their midst, too excited to sit down, and 
while she spoke she felt the nose of the great hound Alex 
against her hand. “Ivan cannot go, he is needed here, 
and besides, does not understand the ways of the country ; 
Hiram knows all the circumstances and is faithful as Alex 
here, but he lacks the tact and discretion necessary for suc- 
cess in such an enterprise as this. There is only one left 
who is familiar with all the peculiar requirements of the 


THE ETJSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


547 


case, and that is myself ; ” and here the speaker fixed her 
full black eyes, shining like stars, upon the venerable face 
which was regarding her with mingled surprise and love. 
“ Give me your blessing, my dear father, and I will go and 
bring back your son.” So saying, she stooped, kneehng be- 
side him, clasping his right hand in both of hers. 

Laying his disengaged hand fondly and caressingly upon 
her glossy black tresses, the old man remained silent for a 
little space, as if trying to control his emotions. At length, 
in a voice that trembled with deep feeling, he said : “ My 
beloved child, believe me, I appreciate deeply the spirit of 
noble self-sacrifice and tender loving-kindness which in- 
duces you to make such an offer, but I were base indeed 
did I permit such a sacrifice. No, we must devise some 
other plan, for I could not look again on your father’s face 
did I permit you to undertake such a perilous journey for 
one to whom you are bound by no ties but those of tender 
sympathy, prompted by your own generous, loving nature.” 

“ But I must do this, and with your blessing I shall be 
safe and succeed in my mission.” She rose in speaking and 
resumed her seat beside him. ‘‘I have thought it over 
fully. I will take Hiram with me ; he will supplement me 
in the quahties I lack, and I can control and direct. Ee- 
member, I am a country girl, and inured by daily exercise 
in the open air to hardship. Anything is better than the 
dreadful suspense in which we have all been living and 
which is slowly killing you. This expedition will be a pos- 
itive relief to me.” 

“ But your dear father. Miss TElsie,” said Sophie, who 
during her week’s sojourn at the Hermitage had become 
much attached to Mr. Hastings. Oh ! I fear he would die 
without you,” and the little* maiden cried sorrowfully at the 
picture her imagination conjured up. 

“ Sophie is right ; this must not be thought of for an in- 
stant. Your father’s claim, my child, is paramount to all 


548 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


others. Providence will open up some other way of relief,* 
said the Patriarch feebly — for the struggle between desire 
to see his son and duty to the absent parent, and unwill- 
ingness to accept such a heroic sacrifice on the part of one 
whom he loved almost as dearly as the son he mourned so 
constantly, was exhausting his strength. 

The visitor perceived this and decided to end the scene, 
so painful to all, so she said, firmly : “ Father, I am re- 
solved. My father will know nothing about it until I re- 
turn. I have an aunt in St. Louis, and a visit to her will 
leave the way open, and my father need have no anx- 
iety. In two days I shall be on my way, that is, if Hi- 
ram can be ready so soon. Give me your blessing, and I 
promise you shall see IHr. Adolph within six weeks at the 
furthest.” 

The Patriarch’s manner changed, and the old look of 
peace came back to his countenance. He arose with new 
strength, and placing both hands on her head, said, in a low 
voice : “ May all good angels be with you by day and by 
night, to guard you from harm ; may the spirit of love 
attend your steps, and shield you from all who would hinder ; 
may the spirit of peace spread his white wings over your 
head, a canopy to shelter and protect ; and may the Su- 
preme have you in His special keeping.” 

Then the ancient speaker seemed to be directing his 
gaze into the distance, his hands still on the maiden’s head, 
and his face and form seemed to take on that peculiar 
prophetic inspirational cast alluded to before, as he spoke 
half to himself : 

‘‘ I see clearly — there are dangers and obstacles many, 
but you will conquer. Darkness, wide-spreading, but light 
— light beyond. You will triumph, my daughter, and be 
restored to us in safety, and succeed too in your mission. 
I shall see my boy again. He still hves. My intuitions 
never fail me. Go in peace, and may heaven bless you,” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


549 


So saying, he pressed his lips to her forehead, and quietly 
passed out of the room. 

Mr. Hastings had been called to New York, and when 
he returned home on the evening of the third day after the 
visit above mentioned to the cave, he found on inquiry that 
his daughter was absent, having left home that morning, 
and that a note from her was awaiting him on the hbraiy 
table. It read as foUow^s : 


April 6, 18 — . 

My Own Deakest Father : You will not, I trust, feel angry 
with me, or even seriously annoyed, when I tell you what I have done. 
You know you have urged me frequently during the winter to go off 
somewhere visiting for a few days, saying that I required a change — 
now, haven’t you ? Well, then, I have taken one of my freaks, as 
you term them, and have gone to hunt up a friend in the great West. 
I am on my way to Aunt Mary’s in St. Louis. Father, you must not 
fret at my absence, although I know you will miss me for a while 
and perhaps be lonely, but Lizzie and Madam will attend to every- 
thing, and you might ask Mr. St. Johns to spend a week or so with 
you. I felt really as if I must get away for a while, or I should be 
sick. I will write from St. Louis, but do not worry if I should not 
return for a month. Ever your loving Elsie. 

P. S. — I gave Mrs. Wagram full instructions in case Mr. St. Johns 
should come, and indeed about everything else I could think of, but 
my brain was in something of a whirl, with getting ready, and one 
thing and another. E. 

Mr. Hastings rang the beU, and it was promptly answered 
by Mrs. Wagram, who had been hovering nigh, half ex- 
pecting the summons. The lively French woman had been 
keeping pretty quiet since her exciting experiences in the 
detective line, and her health, which had been impaired 
for a time, owing to the high-stning nervous condition in 
which she had been compelled to live during that trying 
season, was now quite restored. She was brimful of 
curiosity concerning Elsie’s sudden departure, and hoped 
that Ml’. Hastings could throw some light upon the subject. 


550 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Mrs. Wagram, did my daughter leave any message with 
you, or say anything about her journey before leaving ? ” 

“ No, sir ; she said the note would explain everything. 
Did you read the note, sir ? ” 

“Yes. Well, serve the dinner at the usual hour. Strange,” 
she heard him say to himself as she left the room, and she 
saw that his child’s sudden disappearance had depressed 
and vexed him, for contrary to his usual frank manner to 
her while dining, he was taciturn and reserved. 


CHAPTER XLVII 


CIVILIZED AND SAVAGE. 

Pekhaps it is absolutely necessary that eveiy woman 
should have at least one confidant of her own sex. A man 
may devour the chagrins of his lot in gloomy silence, and 
let hidden woes, concealed griefs, or unsuspected cares 
eat his heart out. He may bear heavy burdens of respon- 
sibility unknown to others, until his spiritual vertebral col- 
umn bends or breaks, and give no sign. But the gentle 
sex is -wiser, as a rule, and sensibly relieves the pressure 
of weighty secrets by sharing with some trusty friend. To 
be able to speak confidentially about our private cares and 
trials, or our projected enterprises, with someone that we 
know to be loyal to the trust, and true as steel to the con- 
fidence reposed, is comfort and relief beyond all expression. 
This necessity of human nature, especially woman’s nature, 
is the secret of the great influence of the professions of di- 
vinity and medicine. A minister’s study and a physician’s 
office are equally confessional boxes, and hold rank with 
those special chambers of limited area which we find con- 
secrated to the use of the priest and penitent in the old 
cathedrals. 

Before Elsie started on what to the common mind would 
be considered a very wild expedition indeed, she called to 
bid Ellen Seaman farewell. The young Englishwoman 
perceived at once that it was no ordinary trip on which her 
friend was going. She felt or knew, by that quick, lightning- 
like intuition which is so noticeable among the more re- 


552 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


fined and delicately organized of lier sex, that behind the 
placid, matter-of-fact demeanor of her cousin there was 
deep feeling and a burden of care. Perhaps she gathered 
something of this conclusion from past knowledge, and a 
hint dropped here and there, and the active use of an un- 
commonly observing pair of eyes. Be this as it may, she 
realized that her friend, who held the place of sister in her 
heart, nearer to her than anyone else of her own sex in the 
country of her adoption, was going away on a long journey, 
to be absent for some weeks possibly, for Elsie hinted as 
much, and with a burden on her mind which friendship 
might help her to bear. She went right to the point, yet 
with such tact and adroitness, blended with such full sym- 
pathy, that Elsie could not resist, and finally yielded. It 
cost some tears, but she unbosomed herself freely, told of 
her hopes and fears, and of her perilous undertaking. 

The young matron was amazed at the daring and courage 
of this American girl, only two or three years older than 
herself. And yet it appealed strongly to that heroic ele- 
ment which seems to be present in the Anglo-Saxon race, 
either manifest or dormant, and her enthusiasm was 
aroused. 

“ Elsie, you are a heroine, and must succeed if success is 
possible. I know you too well to try to dissuade you any 
further. All I can say is, that if this Eussian wins you, he 
will be the luckiest man in the world,, and have the bravest 
woman in America for a wife.” 

“ Hush,” said Elsie, almost in alarm at the words ; “ re- 
member he has never breathed a syllable to me on such a 
subject. How do I know that he cares more for me than 
for anyone else?” 

Ellen smiled knowingly, saying, “ Yes, yes, I understand 
all that,” as Elsie went on. 

“ Letters have failed to reach him, and to think of that dear 
old man, at his great age, pining for the presence of the 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


553 


one dearest to him on earth, and the shadows of that event 
which cannot long be postponed, daily deepening around 
him, and the thought that unless something is done imme- 
diately they will never meet, pressing on us all — I could 
not stand it. I felt it was my duty, for I am not needed 
here, and I have, besides, peculiar advantages in such an un- 
dertaking. I can ride as well as most men, and am very 
strong and capable of enduring fatigue. I can handle the 
revolver and rifle with some skill, and besides, my heart is 
in the work, and obstacles which might discourage another 
will have little effect on me. Also I shall have Hiram with 
me, who knows Indian ways and habits perfectly. Never 
fear, we shall succeed.” 

A promise of secrecy on one side, and of writing as often 
as possible on the other, and these two parted. One to 
her household tasks and meditation for many long days 
over the confidences which must be locked fast in her own 
bosom, and the other to enter a path crowded with dangers 
of whose magnitude she as yet little dreamed. 

But Elsie felt much better every way for the soul part- 
nership she had entered into in giving another permission 
to look into the inner sanctuary of her life. Having been 
an only child, and from early years, with the exception of 
her cousin’s society, for a great part of her life living alone 
with her father and servants, she had never formed the 
habit of giving confidences such as girls and young ladies 
impart so freely to each other. And it required some 
great exigency like the present, when she was venturing 
on an unknown path without even consulting her parent, 
to bring her to the point of opening her heart to another. 

But now that it was done, she walked with a lighter step, 
and felt a half gaiety which an hour previously would have 
seemed impossible. It was indeed pleasant to think that 
another, and that other a woman with all a woman’s feelings 
and sympathies, knew precisely what she was doing or try- 


554 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


ing to dOj and also the motives which prompted her ac- 
tions. 

Elsie’s last words to her friend were, “ Depend on me, 
Ellen, I will write promptly when I have anything definite 
to impart.” But the time dragged along very wearily be- 
fore that promise was fulfilled ; then in about twenty days 
the long waiting was rewarded by a letter, which was 
snatched up and read with an eagerness that piqued War- 
ren’s curiosity not a little. 

“ Why, Ellen, if that letter were from Queen Vic herself, 
I might ; but no ” — taking up the discarded envelope — “ it 
has the great Kepublican stamp on it, and I’m blessed if it 
isn’t from our little runaway cousin herself, and with the 
Kansas post-mark on it. What on earth can the wild goose 
be doing out there ? ” 

Ellen only laughed memly, and read to herself as fol- 
lows : 

Santa Fi:, New Mexico, April 26, 18—. 

My Darling Ellen : I date this Santa F6, hut we are really 
seventeen miles northwest of the old town, camped on the upper Rio 
Grande, way up among the Rockies. Mountains skirting the land- 
scape on every side, most of them crowned with snow. It is very 
high up here, several thousand feet above the sea level, I judge. 
H suppose I ought, as a true American, to say “ guess,” but I spare 
you.) Now you ask, who are the “we?” Firstly, then, the “Gi- 
raffe ; ” secondly, Maunita, an Indian girl ; thirdly, Sangar, brother 
to the last named ; and fourthly, the writer. A goodly company, you 
say — but how did we come together ? Well, then, to begin at the 
beginning. When we arrived at St. Louis and I had interviewed my 
Uncle Grace, my mother’s brother, whom I have not seen since I 
was fourteen, and explained my purpose in coming to his city, I be- 
gan to realize how difficult a task I might have before me. My uncle 
and aunt were astonished, of course, when I unfolded my plans, and 
did all they could to try and dissuade me. Before telling them, I 
exacted a promise of secrecy. I told them I could only stay in the 
city about twenty-four hours, which time I must spend in making 
preparations and obtaining information. I, of course, only told them 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


555 


what was absolutely necessary to secure their co-operation. My 
uncle has traded extensively among the Indians, and when he saw 
I was determined, he set to work with a will to help me all he could. 
My aunt, on the contrary, threw all the obstacles she could in my 
way, and only for my uncle would have written directly to my 
father. But Uncle Grace has a fondness for adventure himself, and 
said if he were single he would go with me. 

However, I must hasten, for the hunter who has promised to mail 
this will be starting soon. Uncle said it would be madness to travel 
through New Mexico without an Indian guide, and he knew a young 
Indian living among the Cherokees, on the Reservation lying south- 
west of Missouri, that he thought would go with us. His mother, he 
said, was a Comanche and his father a Cherokee, and as the former 
tribe was one of the most powerful and dangerous in the region 
through which we must pass, it would be of immense advantage to 
have him along. So Uncle agreed to accompany us to the Reserva- 
tion to interview the proposed guide, and as he had been able to 
do him a great favor some years since, and Indians as a rule are not 
ungrateful, he had hopes of success. Hiram looked after our outfit 
and Uncle secured suitable horses, so in a very short time we were 
en route for the Indian village. 

We arrived there without mishap, excepting that Uncle’s horse 
shied and threw him, bruising him somewhat ; but the brave old 
man would not delay on that account. It was one of the dreams of 
my girlhood to live for awhile in an Indian wigwam — from reading 
Indian stories, I expect — but I must confess I was not enchanted by 
the realities of Indian life. But more of that when we meet. We 
were fortunate in finding Sangar at home, and his family gave us an 
impressive welcome, and served a fine squirrel supper for us on the 
evening of our arrival. Uncle Grace won all hearts by some judi- ^ 
cious presents of bright beads, and jackknives, and tobacco. 

Sagaroxo, tlie head of the family, was a rather fine-looking Indian, 
but somehow I could not help feeling that the smattering of civiliza- 
tion which these children of nature have, robbed them of muck of 
their wild self-reliance and picturesque independence, without giv- 
ing any adequate return. They are inert and lazy, for want of the 
stimulus to exertion which constantly met them in the savage state. 
Sangar, however, in justice I must say, is somewhat of an exception, 
and has shown himself energetic and adroit. At first the young 
man was averse to the trip, and his family too, but I talked to the 
mother, representing how good an opportunity it would be for him to 


556 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


visit her relatives, saying I had always heard of their being such a 
brave tribe. You should have seen the Comanche blood come to the 
dusky woman’s cheek and her black eyes dilate. I involuntarily put 
my hand to my head to see if my scalp was quite safe, so wild did she 
look for a moment. But I began to fear that my eloquence had been 
wasted, as on retiring to our skin-beds nothing had been decided on. 

You do not know, my dear, how delightful a skin bed is after a 
long day spent in the saddle. I slept, oh, so soundly, although it did 
seem as if the most thrilling scraps of all the Indian tales I had ever 
read were rushing wildly through my dreams, I was urging Gyp 
madly toward a ya’wning precipice to escape a pack of yelling Co- 
manches close at his heels, when, just as I heard a whizz and felt the 
keen edge of the flying tomahawk severing my scalp-lock clean to 
the bone, I awoke with a start to realize in my terror that a cool 
hand was being passed softly and soothingly across my face. Per- 
haps I should have screamed aloud, forgetting where I was and only 
half conscious ; but the words reached my ear in a pleasant half 
whispered voice, “ Don’t be fraid, white lady, me talk with you a lit- 
tle.” The speaker then said in her broken English that she was 
Sangar’s sister, and had taken a liking to me, and would like to ac- 
company me in my trip to visit her relatives ; for that seemed to be 
the idea she had of the purport of my journey. 

Just think of taking such a trip for the pleasure of making the 
acquaintance of a family of savage Comanclies. The comical aspect 
of this idea struck me forcibly as I lay listening to this dirsky maiden. 
Fortunately the darkness hid the smile on my countenance, or the 
result might not have been so pleasant. She went on to say that she 
would take care of me and help me and cook for me ; if I would let 
her go, she would manage so that her brother would agree to go 
right off. It took her some time to tell me all this, for her stock of 
English words was limited. You may suppose that her words were 
music to my ears. It was, I could see, of all things the very best. 
This girl would be a companion and a protection, besides insuring 
the fidelity of her brother. However, I knew enough of Indian nat- 
ure to know that I must not seem to yield too easily. So I remained 
silent as if deliberating, while the regular breathing of the sleepers 
around, white and red, reached my ears in measured cadence. At 
length I said, quietly, “ What is your name ? ” 

“Maunita,” she murmured. 

“ Well, Maunita,” I said, “I would like to talk with you, but we 
cannot talk very well here.’’ 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 557 

“Will the white lady come out — moonlight ? ” she asked, putting 
her lips close to my ear. 

“ Yes,” I answered promptly, raising myself into a sitting posture. 

“Hist,” she said, putting her finger on my lips, “follow of me. 
No, no,” she said, laying a restraining hand on mine as I naturally 
reached for my moccasins, which we had adopted, at Uncle Grace’s 
suggestion, instead of shoes. So I fallowed her in my stocking-feet, 
carefully imitating her as she stepped deftly and noiselessly over one 
or two sleeping forms between us and the doorway. 

We emerged from the wigwam into the pale light of the half- 
showing moon, and following my guide quietly, we passed out of 
the village, and entered a small clump of trees which I had noticed 
the evening before. I looked at my watch, it was just half-past two. 
There were some smooth logs and some other rude seats in this, 
which seemed as if it might be used as a sort of public gathering- 
place. My guide now seated herself on the end of one of the logs 
and motioned me to do the same. As she turned toward me, I 
found myself confronted by a handsome, medium-sized Indian girl, 
about nineteen years old. 

“A very pleasant face,” I said, mentally, as we each spent about 
three minutes in mutual observation of each other. I opened the 
conversation by saying : “ Well, Maunita, you would like to go with 
me ? ” and I took her hand as she gravely nodded assent. I con- 
tinued. “ If I agree to take you, will you be faithful to me and take 
good care of me ? I have lost a friend, and I want you to help me 
find him and bring him to his father, who is very old and very sick — 
will you help me ? ” 

She rose to her full height, and laying her left hand on her heart 
and raising her right to the half moon, which we could see dimly 
through the spring foliage, said with great dignity, ‘ ‘ Me will help to 
find the warrior and bring him back to his wigwam and the old 
chief.” 

It was a solemn compact, and from that moment I felt I was safe. 
“ You shall go with me,” I said, taking her hand again, and acting 
on the impulse of the moment, I kissed her on the forehead. She 
seemed surprised and then pleased, and fixing her glowing black 
orbs upon my face — and I fancied I could detect something of the 
Comanche light which had flashed in the visage-of the mother squaw 
the previous evening— she said, deliberately: 

“ Has the young chief got any squaw ? ” 

I ghook m^ head, and a (][uick smile lighted up for a moment the 


558 


THE PwUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


fixed gravity of her face, as she uttered the expressive “ugh ! ’’ at 
the same time giving me a look which spoke a whole world of femi- 
nine curiosity and meaning. 

The Indian maiden had evidently drawn her own conclusions, even 
if the premises were slender ones. I suppose we women are all alike 
in certain things, civilized or savage, red or white. 

Nothing more passed, for these red folks are a reticent race, at least 
with whites, and we returned to the wigwam as quietly as we left it. 
The next morning all obstacles seemed removed, and when I pro- 
posed that the sister as well as the brother should go with us to 
search for the young chief, and visit the Comanche relatives, no op- 
position was made. Evidently my night visitor was a power behind 
the throne. So here we are, with our tent pitched, our horses teth- 
ered, and Maunita preparing supper from some game which Hiram 
has just brought. How my heart longs for father aud you all. 

Your loving Cousin, 

Elsie Hastings. 

Ellen folded the letter and put it in her bosom, sitting 
for a minute or two in silence, as if thinking earnestly about 
something. At length, half to herself, she said without 
looking up, and as if totally unconscious of her husband’s 
presence, “ What a girl she is, anyhow — but that shrewd 
Indian ! ” 

“ Keally, Ellen, you might read me the entire letter. I 
see you have put it away safely until I come home, but 
please to remember, my love, that I am home, and eager to 
hear you read it.” 

Ellen started as Warren began to speak, for so absorbed 
had she been in the letter that she absolutely had supposed 
for the moment that she was alone. “ Oh, Warren, I would 
give the world to be able to read it to you, but it w^ould be 
a breach of trust. My lips are sealed by a promise, so you 
will not press me, I know.” 

The doctor looked a little disappointed for a moment^ 
and then, smiling in his usual frank manner, said : “Not 
for a gold mine would I tempt my little Englishwoman to 
break a promise. But you can tell me, is my cousin all 


THE KTJSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


559 


right and in good company ? She is such a wild cat that I 
would not be surprised to hear that she had been elected 
as female chief of an Indian tribe.” 

‘‘ Ah, you cunning fellow ! you heard me say Indian and 
so took your cue ; but you can’t catch me that way. Yes, 
she is quite well, and in excellent company.” 

“ Ta ta,” said the man ofmedicine, as he gave her a kiss, 
and another because she was “like the renowned Geo. W.,” 
he said, and vanished. 


CHAPTER XLVHL 


PERILS BY THE WAY. 

Whether Mr. Hastings had any suspicions of the true 
cause of his daughter’s absence or not, Ellen was unable to 
determine, but he found out somehow that Elsie had 
agreed to correspond with her and that at least one letter 
had been received. He spent a good deal of time at his 
nephew’s, and Ellen gave him all the satisfaction she could 
about the absent one without actually infringing on the 
pledge given. It was evident from what he said, from time 
to time, that he was in close correspondence with the 
Graces in St. Louis, and knew that she had long since left 
that city. 

‘‘ Elsie ought to have trusted me,” he said, a little bit- 
terly, about three weeks after her departure ; “I would 
have furthered any plan she had, cheerfully. I never de- 
nied her anything that was for her good.” 

‘‘ She knew that, uncle, as we all know it, but, believe 
me, there was no intentional deception in this. You will 
be proud of her when she returns, and I am looking for 
her every day,” pleaded Ellen, earnestly. “ Elsie is no com- 
mon girl, uncle, and cannot be judged by common rules.” 

But to Ellen’s surprise and grief, not a word came to 
relieve the anxiety until, when June came, Mr. Hastings 
determined to wait no longer, but proceed to St. Louis and 
at once institute a search for his lost child. 

He had visited the patriarch several times and tried in- 
directly to find out if he could tell him aught of hi^ daugh- 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


561 


ter, but the aged man had given Elsie a similar promise to 
that she had exacted from Ellen, and of course could not 
fully satisfy the eager desires of the troubled parent, but 
he always said : “ Trust me, my dear friend, when I say she 
is safe. I know this by a peculiar susceptibility to im- 
pressions which relate to those I love. There is a stage 
which we can arrive at when our souls can be en rapport — 
in instantaneous connection with the souls of those belong- 
ing to our spirit-sphere, without regard to distance. I feel 
that your child, our dear daughter, is quite safe and well.” 

It was the remembrance of these w^ords, uttered at the 
last visit and which, unaccountably to himseK, profoundly 
impressed and consoled the owner of the Hermitage, that 
impelled him, almost, to seek the cave again before starting 
for the West. 

The ancient man was sitting with his eyes closed when 
the visitor entered the room, and did not open them, but 
said quietly and without rising : “ Sit by me, my son ; I know 
why you have sought me. Give me your hand. Our dear 
one has been in great peril and the Dark Angel brooded 
with wide-spread wings above the little band, but deliver- 
ance has come, and their faces are set southward toward 
peace and safety. 

The hearer did not smile, for he felt that if sincerity ever 
dwelt in human breast, it was here. If it was self-decep- 
tion, then it was guileless, and the intent and faith were 
equally pure and worthy. 

“ Is this what is called by some clairvoyance ? ” he asked, 
presently. 

“ Hardly the correct name, I think, for it is not exactly 
clear-seeing, although I do not deny that almost clear vision 
may come to some of earth’s sons, but they have numbered 
more earth-years than I, by repeated births. For ’tis the 
large experience of several lives here, under varied con^ 
ditions, that gives one this power,” 


m 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


As his visitor was leaving the venerable Eussian asked, 
“ What hour do you start ? ” 

“Where?” returned Mr. Hastings, for he had mentioned 
his trip as yet to no one. 

“To seek your child. But tany a couple of days, and 
new’s will be received here from her ; a letter is now on the 
road.” 

Although fully intending to start the following morning, 
yet the words of the Exile were so serious that he decided 
to remain until the time mentioned, half chiding himself 
for weak credulity in doing so. But the prediction was 
veiified, and on the second day a letter came to Ellen 
Seaman. 

Tucson, N. M., June 20, 18—. 

My Dear Ellen : I suppose you think by this time that I have 
forgotten my promise — you, home, father, and everything else — 
and I don’t blame you ; but I have had such curious experiences. 
I must try and give you some outline of what I have been doing, but 
details must be left until we meet, which, I trust, will be very soon 
indeed, for, believe me, I am just famishing to see you all. But first, 
let me beg of you to send me a short note by the first mail after re- 
ceiving this, telling me how you all are, and especially how our old 
friend is. Send two notes, one to this place and one to St. Louis, 
on the chance that I may get one of them. I hardly know how to 
begin to tell you what I have been through since writing last. I 
know I have had adventure enough to last me a lifetime. 

We were camped a few miles north of Santa Fe, I told you, and 
preparing to start in the direction of the Gila River, hoping to hear 
tidings of the object of our search. The next day after writing we 
started early, being mounted on Indian ponies selected for speed 
and endurance, each of us carrying a rifie and good revolver. Don’t 
be too much startled, my dear coz, at this rather manly declaration. 
You know I have been used to a rifie since I was fifteen, at least I 
heard father tell you so one day, and as to a revolver, I can kill a 
sparrow on the wing at twenty paces. Maunita knew Httle about 
the last weapon, though a fair hand with the rifle, but she has be- 
come almost as expert as myself under my instruction. Sangar is a 
good shot, and Hiram is a wonder. 1 have seen him kill a bumble- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


563 


bee as far off as it could be distinguished, but then he has sight like 
a telescope, as father often declared. I have dwelt upon our shoot- 
ing ability, in order that you may understand better what follows. 

This region is full of savage Indians — the Navajoes, Comanches, 
Apaches, and Utahs being the most prominent. They are wild and 
predatory, and difficult to keep in subjection. We travelled as 
rapidly as the rugged nature of the country admitted, having to 
climb over a great many elevated ridges, following obscure trails, 
and in other cases making our way carefully through canons, in im- 
minent danger of assault Try the roving bands of red men. Fortu- 
nately we only encountered small parties, who were civil enough, 
seeing how well armed we were, and also largely owing, no doubt, to 
the fact that Maunita and her brother spoke their language. These 
young Indians have been a treasure to us ; indeed, I question if your 
friend would be in the flesh to-day but for their fldelity and courage. 
Just sufficiently civilized to render them companionable, they yet 
have the wild spirit of their race, and the hardihood and contempt 
for danger that makes them thoroughly enjoy such experiences as 
the traveller through these regions may expect as daily fare. 

The third day from leaving Santa Fe had arrived, and apart from 
the hardships of rough travelling we felt that we had been fortunate 
in avoiding serious perils. We had encamped for the night under 
the shelter of a bluff which rose precipitously to a height of two 
hundred feet or so from the small plateau on which we rested. Some 
hundreds of feet away there was another dip or decline, somewhat 
less abruptly, into the valley below, at the bottom of which a small 
stream tossed and tumbled noisily on its way to the great Rio Grande, 
of which it was one of the numerous feeders. In short, we were on 
one of a gigantic flight of stairs which nature, in some freak, had 
built on the face of this wonderfully diversified region. It was a 
good camping ground, as there was abundance of room to picket our 
horses, and a shelf-like ledge of rock cropping out from the cliff -face 
made a sort of roof in case of needed shelter from the elements. 
Hiram insisted from the start that we dispense, so far as possible, 
with fires. 

“The pesky varmints’ll scent smoke fur ’s a mile,” and as he said 
this to me confidentially, he made a half grimace in the direction of 
the dusky brother and sister who were conversing at a little distance 
in their native tongue. For the trapper, like most of his class who 
have seen much of Indian life and warfare, has anything but a cordial 
regard for these children of the forest. Nevertheless the “Giraffe ” 


564 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


admitted that Maunita was “most white” in some things, and that 
the other one he guessed might do if he was well watched. 

The events of that night I can never forget, and yet they have left 
an obscure, confused impression on my mind. I was suddenly 
aroused by a quick exclamation from Maunita : “ Apaches — Apaches ; ” 
then the report of a rifle close to us. This was succeeded by a yell 
of pain and rage combined, and immediately the fearful war-whoop 
burst upon the night air. 

A warning voice said : “ Squat low, an’ mind yer don’t shoot them 
bosses. ” 

We two girls were crouching with our rifles in hand awaiting de- 
velopments, and half paralyzed, I must confess, for the moment 
with fear, and at Hiram’s words fell prone on our faces. Just in 
time, for a score of bullets and arrows struck the rock behind us, 

“ Naow bring yer weapons an’ pick yer men,” said the trapper, and 
crawling cautiously forward, we sighted hastily, and fired at some 
fleeing forms which we saw in the dim starlight. The cries of the 
wounded ones — for we saw two drop who were carried off by their 
companions— I acknowledge, made me feel sick at heart for the mo- 
ment, but we had to defend ourselves and our horses, and it was the 
attempt to steal the animals which roused the watchful Hiram. The 
Indian shot by Hiram in the commencement of the melee had actu- 
ally secured one of the horses, and was sneaking quietly off with it, 
when the bullet of the trapper reached him. The animal at once 
dashed back to the others and remained quietly until caught later on. 
The attempt evidently was to steal the horses, and then they knew 
we should be at their mercy, although we owed our escape probably 
to the fact that the Red men did not know the actual size of our 
party. If they had suspected for a moment that we only numbered 
four, and two of us women, I fear I should not have survived to tell 
you this story. Of course there was no more slumber for us that 
night, although the foe did not return. 

The next morning we were up and ready to mount before day- 
light, but Hiram and Sangar decided to reconnoitre, to ascertain if 
we dare venture from our stronghold. They were absent an 
hour, and it was full daylight ere they returned. Imagine the sus- 
pense of us poor girls ! To our dismay the scouts reported that the 
Apaches had us in a trap, and that we must not think of leaving our 
present position that day. Having plenty of ammunition and pro- 
visions for the present, the trapper advised holding our coign of van- 
tage until there was some diversion in our favor. 


THE RUSSIAlSr REFUGEE. 


565 


“ Tliem durned critters are on tlie figlit ’tween ’emselves, an’ 
maybe ther’ll be a scatterin’ ’fore the day’s gone. Leastways the 
pesky varmints’ll liev to keep their own side o’ the fence.” 

Sangar had found a sort of cul de sac or natural chamber in the 
mountain side, close to us, in which the horses were placed, and our 
position was such that the foe must attack from either side, but could 
not approach in front or rear. I wish I could give you an idea of 
Hiram. He looked positively terrific, as he walked up and down with 
“Squeaking Jim,” as he terms his rifle, in his hands, watching for a 
“ pesky varmint” to show himself. Our young Indian couple be- 
haved nobly, albeit a little afraid of being taken captive by their 
ancient foes, the Apaches. You have no idea of the deadly hatred 
there is between these different tribes. Maunita, half civilized as she 
is, would, I fear, willingly try her hand at scalping an Apache, should 
opportunity offer. 

Such a day as that was ; every hour of it seems burned into the tab- 
let of memory, never to be effaced. There was fighting going on 
near us, for we heard the rifle reports nowand then, and we sincerely 
hoped our foes of the night before were being soundly thrashed. 
Our intention was to wait until dark, and then try and work our way 
cautiously through the defiles and passes down to the plateau below, 
and follow the course of the stream before mentioned. About du.sk 
Sangar came running in to announce that a large party of braves were 
coming up the eastern slope. He said they were not Apaches, but 
Utes, he thought, and by the way they acted he concluded they did 
not know of our whereabouts, and possibly were not the antagonists 
of the night before. The first thought was to defend ourselves at 
all hazards, for, situated as we were, four rifles could have kept an 
army at bay, but the bloodshed would be awful, and my very soul 
recoiled from it. I urged that Sangar be sent to open negotiations 
with these new-comers, if he was satisfied they were not the murder- 
ous Apaches, and ask their aid, promising a large reward if they 
would help us. If they were Apaches, of course we must fight to the 
last, for after the work of the previous night we felt they would 
show us no mercy. 

This being agreed to, Sangar hurried to meet them, promising to 
keep himself concealed while he made observations. He had ob- 
served them a considerable distance away and had warned us at once. 
In a few moments the young Indian returned and stated that the 
strangers were Navajoes, and that on calling to them they had im- 
mediately made him prisoner, but, on his explaining matters, had al- 


566 


THE KUSSiAN REFUGEE. 


lowed liim to come forward and inform ns that we must give our- 
selves up as prisoners. There was nothing else for it, and so we 
surrendered. I saj we, but that only meant Maunita and myself, as 
Hiram had mysteriously disappeared. 

It was a party of warriors on the war path, pursuing a band of 
Apaches who had stolen some of their horses, and the firing we had 
heard had been a skirmish between the Navajoes and the retreat- 
ing thieves, the same, no doubt, that had tried to augment their 
plunder by the addition of our horses the night before, but in which 
attempt they were so nicely foiled. Doubtless they mistook our 
party for the Navajoes, and so retreated into the very arms of the 
pursuers. They treated us very well, partly because of the fight that 
we had made against their hereditary foe, for it seems there has ex- 
isted a feud between these tribes for several generations, at least so 
the chief of onr captors told me. Sangar and Maunita understood 
their dialect pretty well, and so acted as interpreters. 

Fortunately our new friends were on friendly terms with the Co- 
manches, and so as friends and relations of that people we were only 
held in a sort of nominal captivity, until they came to the Comanche 
country. We travelled with these Navajoes for several days, using 
our own horses. They inquired suspiciously after our fourth com- 
panion, and we allayed their doubts by saying that we feared the 
Apaches had captured him. This was Sangar’s explanation ; but the 
fact that Hiram’s horse, saddle, and bridle disappeared on the second 
night after our capture, made me doubt if the Apaches had much con- 
trol over the movements of the brave trapper. The theft of the 
horse puzzled our Indian friends very much, as the animals were all 
together close to the camp. Whatever they thought they said noth- 
ing, but kept stricter watch on our movements after, I thought. 
When about a day’s ride from the Comanche village, a guard of six 
braves was detailed to accompany us to the place, the main body of 
the Navajoes going south. That night we were suddenly surrounded, 
and our whole party, with the exception of two Navajoes, taken pris- 
oners by the bloodthirsty foe we had so much dreaded. 

I write calmly about it now, but no pen can describe my sensations 
then. These repulsive-looking creatures, dancing and capering around 
in their war paint, and occasionally emitting that horrid screech 
called a “war-whoop,” suggested pandemonium and these beings 
looked like red devils. We were hurried by forced marches to one 
of their villages, which we reached at noon of next day, and Maunita 
and myself were given over to the squaws for safe keeping. I need 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


567 


not detail our captivity of four days among these people. It was 
dirty and tedious enough. What became of the captured Navajoes 
we never knew, for they were separated from our party. Sangar and 
Maunita claimed to be Ojibways from the Reservation, and although 
the wild Indians despise these peaceable ones, yet they were doubt- 
less much safer than if they had owned to the Comanche blood in 
their veins. Not to be too long with this narrative, I must hasten to 
tell you of our rescue. 

On the evening of the fourth day we were told that the village was 
to be abandoned the next morning and that we must be ready for an 
early start. But before daylight came there were shouts and cries 
and firing of guns, and we concluded of course there was another at- 
tack by Indians and rather rejoiced at it, Maunita expressing the 
belief that it might be the Comanches to the rescue. But soon we 
heard shouting in English and the words, “Give it to the red devils ! 
Don’t spare ’em ! ” reached our ears. The old squaw in charge of us 
shook me roughly by the shoulder and motioned me to follow her. 
I refused, inspired by the voices I had heard. She seized a toma- 
hawk, but I grasped her arm, and while we were struggling the cloth 
hangings before the door was torn away and a man dressed in the uni- 
form of a United States soldier sprang in. The squaw gave a shriek 
and fled, while I turned in delight to greet the new-comer. Judge 
of my amazentent when I met the gaze of the intruder fixed upon 
me with open-eyed astonishment. 

“ Mr. Adolph ! ” I exclaimed ; “ or am I dreaming ? ” for certainly 
the lost one, to seek whom I had ventured into this wild country, was 
before me. 

“ Thank God, we are in time, then. Oh, I have died a thousand 
deaths in thinking of your peril,” and the poor fellow wrung my 
hand, while the tears flowed down his cheeks. He was so overcome 
by emotion that he dropped on a seat near and covered his face with 
his hands. 

I know I was so affected by this unexpected meeting that I sobbed 
aloud. I had passed through varied perils since starting, yet noth- 
ing brought to my eyes what are called woman’s solace — tears ; 
but the sight of this familiar face brought back home and its ten 
thousand associations, and all regrets, hopes, fears, and vexations 
seemed to concentrate and find expression in a hearty cry. I expect 
Maunita thought white folks were made of poor stuff, as she looked 
wonderingly from one to the other. But of course this emotion or 
exhibition of weakness, if you choose, was only momentary. Adolph 


568 "HH the RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 

sprang to his feet, saying with his old smile but in a husky voice, 
“ How weak I am ; but the relief after the tension of the past forty- 
eight hours of dreadful uncertainty was too much for me. Thank 
Heaven we got the start of the savage red-skins, for an hour hence 
would have been too late. 

We hurried out of the wigwam, Maunita following, and found the 
village occupied by Uncle Sam’s Boys in Blue. I was introduced to 
Lieutenant Strong, who commanded the detachment, and warmly 
congratulated on my escape. Maunita, too, was kindly received by 
them. Three prisoners only had been taken, and in fact I now found 
that a number of the warriors had left the village before the attack 
was made, and the rest had made a precipitate retreat on the advent 
of the troops, leaving only the squaws and a few old men behind. 
One of the prisoners was the old squaw who had charge of us and 
was going to enforce her commands with the tomahawk. I begged 
for her release, as generally she had treated us pretty well. 

“ Don’t you deceive yourself, Miss Hastings,” said the lieutenant, 
a fine-looking man with a truly military bearing; “ they had some 
good reason for their forbearance, or this same old she-devil and her 
female aids would have tortured you almost to death, and gloated 
over your sufferings. I haven’t been in these parts for three years 
without knowing the true nature of the Apaches.” 

Maunita, who understood pretty well what he said, translated it 
to the old hag, no doubt with additions of her own, and seemed 
keenly to relish the look of alarm that for an instant seemed to dis- 
turb the apathy of the morose-looking prisoner. 

I shuddered to think what a fate might have been in store for us 
liad the band succeeded, in carrying us off to Mexico, as Adolph in- 
formed me was their intention, as confessed by one of the prisoners, 
a large part of the tribe being across the national line. 

“We should have followed you, of course, but the result might 
not have been so satisfactory. But we will not cloud present joy by 
suppositions which no longer claim attention. We hope you will 
accept our hospitality at the fort until opportunity offers to send you 
safely out of this savage country,” remarked Lieutenant Strong. 

In a few moments we were in the saddle en route for Fort Downing. 
Never shall I forget the kindness and hospitality we were shown at 
Camp Downing, this little military station on the Gila River, but I can- 
not dwell on that now. You want to know how we were rescued. We 
owed it largely to that faithful fellow Hiram. I must tell you how. 

Hiram managed to disappear, I don’t yet know how, when we 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


569 


were surprised by the Navajoes, but bung upon our skirts, so to speak, 
until we were captured by the Apacbes. It seems about tbis time 
be met with a friendly Indian scout, wbo told bim of tbe capture of 
a white chief some two months since by tbe Apaches, and that be 
was now in captivity at one of their villages. Half suspecting from 
the description that it might be Adolph he decided, if possible, with 
the aid of the scout to effect his rescue and then, if his suspicions 
proved correct, or in any case, with the aid of the white man, to 
compass our escape. The attempt was successful, and the captive 
was spirited away one dark night, and proved to be Adolph. I am 
told that Hiram actually entered the village the night before and lo- 
cated the wigwam where he was confined, guarded by two braves, 
and contrived in some way to signal him of the intended rescue. 
They were pursued by the Indians almost to the gates of the fort, 
and Hiram’s left shoulder received a bullet wound which tempo- 
rarily disabled his arm. 

Captain Gibson^immediately decided to send a detachment of sol- 
diers with Adolph and the scouts to release us from the clutches of 
the cruel Indians, knowing well that every hour increased our peril. 
It was delightful to see faithful Hiram once more. He and the In- 
dian scout Arunutaker had been sent in advance to watch the direc- 
tion of the Apaches in case they should decide to remove us before 
the troops arrived. They returned to Camp Downing about two 
hours after we arrived, and our meeting was a sort of jubilee, I can 
assure you. The old trapper seemed for once unable to find words 
to express his joy. The next morning, in spite of the warmest invi- 
tations to remain and i*ecruit, we were in the saddle and on the way 
to Tucson, where it was necessary for Adolph to report before he 
left for home. ' A strong, well-mounted party of soldiers escorted us, 
and we reached that town late in the evening of the same day. 
Adolph was wild to see his father, and I was as anxious as he to be 
on the road. Heaven grant that nothing may have happened to mar 
the pleasure of reaching home, which we hope for soon. This is a 
rare old Spanish town, and I would like to spend a week or month 
here instead of three days, which time was absolutely necessary to 
remain in order to take advantage of the opportunity of accompany- 
ing a body of troops which leave here for St. Louis to-morrow. 

Hoping this will reach you speedily, and that it will soon be fol- 
lowed by the writer and friends, I remain as ever, 

Your loving sister and cousin, 

Elsie Hastings. 


570 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


P. S. — Read this to fatlier, won’t you, and explain everything to 
him, please ? I feel dreadfully sometimes to think how unkind my 
action must appear to him. I would not for worlds that he should 
suppose that I felt I could not trust him. But I was acting from a 
sudden impulse and with a faith in my ultimate success, and it was 
impossible I could have made him see it as it appeared to me. I 
felt that his cool judgment would have disapproved the undertak- 
ing, and his affection positively forbidden it. Then I should have 
been faced by two alternatives— disobey one that I loved and revered, 
and whose wish had always governed my actions, or else go contrary 
to the imperious voice within urging immediate action, a voice 
which my best intuitions told me was duty’s call — and so be wretched. 
I know my action must have the appearance of being wild and Quix- 
otic, but I had to do it. Do try and make my father see it in this 
light. Remember I am both son and daughter to him, as he had no 
son, and what might excite his anger or vex him as done by a daugh- 
ter, he must forgive as done by a son. But you know what I would 
say, and kiss him for me. E. H. 

If Mr. Hastings was hurt before by his daughter’s want 
of confidence, Ellen could not positively say, but this let- 
ter seemed to clear away the clouds. 

“ My poor motherless giid ! ” he said. “ It is so like her. 
She is half a boy in her instincts^ but it was a temble peifil 
to run. Thank God she has escaped so far. I shall start 
at once for St. Louis, to meet her there.” 


CHAPTER XLIX. 


HOME AGAIN. 

Ellen Seaman was as restless as a caged linriet, all alone 
in the Hermitage with the servants, hstening for every 
sound which might seem to intimate the approach of the 
proprietor of the mansion and its young mistress. She 
flitted to and fro between the library and the hall door, 
varying the exercise by an occasional visit to the garden, 
from one point in which, by an opening in the shrubbery, a 
glimpse of the road could be caught. She had received a 
note from Elsie the evening previous, asking her to meet 
them at the Hermitage. 

Mr. Hastings had reached St. Louis before his daughter 
arrived there, and so he and Mr. Grace, with a trusty guide, 
had started out on horseback to meet the party. The 
meeting took place about seventy miles from the city, on 
the evening of the second day. 

Elsie’s surprise and delight at seeing her parent were 
unbounded, and their differences, if any could be said to 
exist, were soon adjusted. 

Elsie, if such a mad impulse ever takes you again, don’t 
conceal it from your father. Believe me, I shall either aid 
you to carry out your wishes or go for you. You cannot 
tell what I have suffered during these weeks.” 

No words of reproach other than these escaped him, and 
Elsie felt that her beloved parent had fully pardoned what 
she had not quite forgiven herself. However, as we say 
philosophically in this world of doubt and obscurity, “ All’s 
well that ends well.” 


572 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“ Your father is an angel, my dear, to overlook such a 
thing,” said the rather severe but really kind Aunt Grace, 
“ and I told William I never could quite forgive him for 
helping you in such a wild-goose chase, but I suppose I 
must forgive too, since your father has set such a good 
example.” 

The Graces could not persuade them to stay longer than 
a night, for time pressed, at least two of the party feeling, 
as by a common instinct, that the sooner the journey was 
accomplished the better. 

And here they were at last — and how the dear old home 
loomed up before them as they rolled rapidly up the av- 
enue ! Why, Elsie thought, the old house almost wore a 
smile of welcome on its quaint and antique face. Perhaps 
the smiles were reflected from the human faces which 
greeted the wanderers on the steps of the veranda. 

“ Oh, Ellen, my dear girl, how is every bit of you ? How 
good it is to be home again ! ” A warm welcome indeed, 
even Hugo taking part with joyful face and eloquent tail. 

“ Why, Elsie, my dear,' it seems almost worth while to 
go away, even to hunt Indians’ scalps,” said Mr. Hastings, 
the last clause of the sentence being in a significantly low 
tone, and with a meaning smile, to his daughter, “ to re- 
ceive such a welcome home as this.” 

Elsie blushed, saying, “ Almost,” and then turning to 
Ellen, eagerly asked, “ And how is ? ” 

“Very weak, but bright as ever, and eagerly looking for 
your return,” was the answer, before the name had left 
Elsie’s lips. 

Adolph had left his companions at Melville in company 
with Hii’am, in order to reach his cave home by the short- 
est cut. 

Ellen had contrived to caU at Gretchen’s cottage every 
few days, by this means keeping informed of the condition 
of the aged friend. The jovial Dutchwoman had grown to 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


573 


love the gentle English girl with her quiet womanly ways, 
and was dehghted to find a sympathetic ear into which she 
could pour her hopes and fears concerning Adolph and 
Elsie. These hopes and fears, and woes and joys, done up 
in a batter of rather mixed English and Dutch, were an un- 
ending source of amusement to the visitor, and almost as 
much so to the doctor, who received them second-hand. 

At parting, Adolph had promised to send a note that 
day to announce the condition of the Exile and notify Elsie 
when to come, for she was eager to visit this ancient child 
of earth whose feet she felt must so soon press the golden 
sands of the eternal shore. 

During the afternoon the doctor came in, and Elsie’s ad- 
ventures were related to his wondering ears. 

“ Why, what an Amazon you are, Cousin Elsie I I shall 
write to his Koyal Highness the King of Dahomey at once 
to ask if he has a vacancy in his body-guard.” 

‘‘ For shame, you monster medicine-man ! I’m not an 
Amazon, and I sha’n’t go to Africa just yet. New-Mexico’s 
enough for me.” 

‘‘There now. I’ve roused her Indian blood — please don’t 
scalp me,” said Seaman, comically, holding on to his hair as 
he edged toward the door. 

It was an afternoon of recital and asking and answering 
questions. Of course, the young mistress of the mansion 
had to endure a good deal of playful badinage about the 
maiden-errant going to rescue the captive young knight, 
but being home again and safe, and the object accom- 
plished, paid for all. 

Ellen had been particularly interested in the Indian 
brother and sister, and pleased to hear that they found 
some of their relatives near Tucson with whom Sangar de- 
<jided to remain for a few weeks, but Maunita had become 
so attached to Elsie that she insisted on returning with her 
to St. Louis, whence Mr. Grace forwarded her to the reser- 


574 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


vation. “I was most interested in lier, and hated to part 
from her. I wish you could have seen her, Ellen, with 
those marvellous black eyes and that quiet face, lighted up 
occasionally with the fierce flames of the slumbering Co- 
manche fire.” 

“I wonder she didn’t eat you in one of those outbreaks 
of the Comanche spirit. I’d as soon have a tame streak of 
lightning for a companion,” remarked Warren. 

“ Indians are not cannibals, sir, and Maunita is a very 
noble girl, if she is a Comanche,” returned his cousin. 

“ Oh, yes, I understand — a very nice gii'l, I don’t doubt, 
only with an irresistible inclination to seek satisfaction at 
head-quarters — a sort of scalp affection. Yes.” 


CHAPTEK L. 


SUNSET GLORIES. 

The golden glory of the sunset lights up the eastern 
skies and anticipates the brightness of the dawning ! Late 
in the evening came a note to Elsie. 

My Dear Friend: — Father is gradually fading from earth. 
Probably he will not be with us beyond to-morrow. Pray come early 
in the morning, with your dear father, and for his last day give him 
the joy which your presence always brings. 

’ Adolph K. 

And the little group were now gathered around the 
couch of the aged one who was so soon to pass from mortal 
sight. 

Elsie at first thought that perhaps she had been unneces- 
sarily anxious, so little change did she see in the beloved 
old man. But a little later the feeling returned that the 
end was very near. There was no marked emaciation, no 
special signs of wasting, but a certain delicacy and fragility, 
and an indescribable lessening of the whole form, as if the 
wings were being folded and the mffled plumage smoothed 
— a sort of symmetrical contracting or shrinking of the phys- 
ical frame. But the same bright smile and clear eye, the 
same genial, kind presence, greeted her that had so im- 
pressed her at their first meeting nearly two years before. 

The Patriarch was reclining, dressed as usual, on his 
couch of skins, near the great opening overhanging the 
ravine below, now full to repletion with the exuberant 


576 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


wealth of summer. Here he had spent ^most of his time 
during the past weeks, regarding with pleased, intelligent 
eyes Nature’s kaleidoscopic changes and daily growing 
beauty. The Exile had been lying for some moments with 
closed eyes, his right hand fondly clasped in that of his 
son, when Elsie entered with her father. 

“The dear daughter is here ; I feel her presence. Wel- 
come, my child,” and opening his eyes, he with sudden 
strength sat up on the couch. 

Elsie was deeply affected, and her tears flowed freely. 
The clasp of the hand, the deep, unspoken language of the 
eyes, showed the responsive joy and feeling excited in this 
aged bosom as she pressed her lips to his forehead. 

But when the unfathomable serenity of the larger life 
falls upon the spirit, and the eternal calm, flowing through 
the opening gates, bathes the soul, emotion, passion, is 
no longer possible. The mortal is in abeyance, the im- 
mortal part rises above the agitations of the lower life even 
as a bird of dawn rises, clearing the murky damps and 
vapors, and from on high looks down on the mists below, 
itself bathed in the sunlight and inhaling the air of the new 
day — of earth, and yet above earth, between two worlds. 
Oh, wondrous moment ! supernal vision ! 

“ My dearest child,” he said, fondly, but there was no ex- 
citement in the tone, only a very tender something that 
went right to her heart, “how I have longed to behold 
you again is only known to the All-seeing One. You have 
come through hardships and perils, bravely and unself- 
ishly encountered, in order to crown and bless my last 
hom’S. I owe it to you, my daughter, that my eyes are 
privileged to see once more my child, whose presence has 
cheered and sustained me through fhese many years. 
Your dear father, too, is with us. Mr. Hastings, I owe you a 
great debt, for anxiety and suffering endured through your 
daughter’s self-sacrificing efforts on my behalf,” 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


577 


Holding a hand of each, so the ancient man spoke, and 
then asked that he be propped up, and that all should seat 
themselves. 

“ My last day on earth,” he said, smiling at them cheerily — 

at least for a time. But ’tis not sad to me to pass through 
this shadowed portal, which admits to other life and fuller 
being. Nay, I rather rejoice I have had so much of earth. 
And as the mists clear away, as we know they do when the 
sun is rising — and the sun is now rising for me, and flooding 
all my being with his glory — the memory of two former and 
similar experiences comes to me. Yes, dear ones, I have 
died to earth before. But on each occasion, as I was 
ushered into the ‘beyond,’ the portal of human life re- 
opened and admitted me again into the family of man. 
Through all my career I have had a dim consciousness and 
confused memory of these things, but now they come out 
clearly, as bluffs and headlands come out of the mass of 
vapor which before obscured the eye of the mariner gazing 
at the coast line giving rude suggestive outlines of the 
reality.” 

“Father,” said Elsie, gently, as the old man paused, 
“ does not talking weary you, and exhaust your strength ? ” 

“ No, my dear, I have only so much strength, and it will 
last me to the end. But your voice brings back to me those 
pictures which have been so constantly with me during 
your absence. Let me describe some of them.” 

And to her astonishment the dying man clearly and 
graphically sketched the principal events of her experiences 
in New Mexico. Beginning at her uncle’s, he rapidly traced 
in outline the successive happenings of the journey until the 
meeting with his son. Then he sketched the old town of 
Tucson with more minuteness than she could have done, 
although speaking of nothing but what she remembered 
seeing. 

At first she thought Adolph had informed his father, and 
37 


578 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


that these were the floatiog images of that conversation, 
but the younger Russian met her inquiring glance by 
shaking his head negatively, and the ancient speaker, whose 
eyes were closed, answered her thought at once by saying, 
“No, my child, Adolph and I have not spoken of your 
journey in detail. I saw these things, and knew of your 
trials.” 

After a few moments of silence Mr. Hastings asked the 
aged Russian : “ Might not a skilful physician aid you ? I 
do wish you would let me remove you to the Hermitage 
and then we could have medical advice. We could move 
you almost without your knowing it.” 

Elsie looked up wistfully, but felt at once that the Pa- 
triarch would not consent to it. 

A smile played over his features as he lay with eyes 
closed, and Elsie noticed that the face only hinted his 
extreme age when the brilliant eyes were hidden. No 
sign of a century of years in them. Those piercing orbs 
seemed to have entered on a new lease of youth, and won- 
derfully lighted up and relieved the face. 

“Alas, my son, where is the physician that can cure 
the disease of time — old age, for I have no other ailment ? 
I have lived in this curious dwelling of nature’s own 
architecture for over half a century, and here I can finish 
my earth-race. I shall pass away with the sunset ; I shall 
go from the land of shadows to the land of light. This 
body has served me admirably, but it has lost its elasticity 
and its vigor has departed. The mind is strong, or stronger 
than ever, but can no longer compel its servant to obedience. 
When the machinery is worn out, what avails the power that 
worked through and by it ? But you must have questions to 
ask concerning the strange opinions you have heard me ex- 
press from time to time. Fear not to fatigue me ; on the 
contrary, it will stimulate what power I have. Let me live 
while I live ; when eventide comes I shall sleep. One ques- 


THE EUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


579 


tion I anticipate for you, Elsie ; you half asked it before — 
how, if my belief is true, the soul is guided in its re-entrance 
into this life. Is that your question, my child ? ” 

She admitted that it was what she had in mind. 

‘‘It is guided, dear one, precisely as it is guided here. 
Everything within the range of life, and indeed in soriie 
sense without this range, is governed by the law of demand 
and supply, of hunger and satisfaction. Everything having 
a need gravitates toward that which can satisfy that need. 
’Tis the secret of society, friendship, love, life. So the soul, 
freed from the flesh, seeks the channel of rebirth which 
ofters satisfaction for its most pressing need. This bent, 
or hunger, or instinct guides it as unerringly back to earth 
and to the particular earth-channel, which promises satis- 
faction, as the something within the tiny form of the bee 
guides it to the honey flower and back to the hive after 
miles of unheeded wandering. Souls find themselves there, 
because the there only could furnish what is needed for 
their onward growth. No matter how hindered and ob- 
structed, they will yet reach the fountain yielding the 
crystal water which alone can slake their burning thirst. 
Many lose all interest in life, and say they have had enough 
of earth, when they are famished, but the distaste for this 
world arises from failure to find the food which only can 
nourish them. Hence the eager joy with which so many 
leave this state of being to go to heaven, as they term it, 
when the heaven they seek unknowingly is here, and wiU 
be theirs in the satisfaction which comes upon rebirth 
here, in finding the food to cure the hunger which possessed 
them. Many born in wealth and reared in luxury starve 
amid plenty, and leave this life dwarfed and shrunken, who 
by rebirth in peasant home and amid poverty may expand 
and grow to giant manhood and larger scope of spirit 
development.” 

In answer to .a question he said : “ Undoubtedly spirits 


580 


THE KUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


who have done with earth can return here if their presence 
is necessary to the upHfting of any child of Time. ‘ All 
things work together for good to them who love good’ 
comes from elder days, and certainly, if anyone requires a 
service which I can best render, I shall be there to render 
it. The whole universe is a unit to fulfil divine behests. 
Thousands of whispers from the unseen sphere have reached 
me, and such come to all if they would heed and attune 
their hearts aright. This life is nothing but the projected 
tangible expression of the other and higher life visible to 
mortal eyes not yet developed to gaze intelligently upon 
that other state. This world is but the thought of Ood 
made manifest to humanity, even as speech is thought in 
form appreciated by the sense of hearing.” 

He insisted on the table being spread and dinner partaken 
of by the visitors and family in the room where he lay, say- 
ing their presence was a comfort, and as it was his last 
day, they must gratify him. During the afternoon he 
seemed to sleep at times, but promptly answered when 
spoken to, even in a low tone. His great age had not im- 
paired his hearing or vision a particle. 

Mr. Hastings was compelled to leave about four o’clock, 
promising to return for his daughter in the evening. 

“ Farewell, my son. K I have become only a memory to 
you when you return, may that memory be an influence for 
your good until we meet in other form amid different con- 
ditions,” said the aged invalid tenderly. 

“ My dear sir, I trust we shall have you with us a little 
longer than you seem to think,” returned the other, his 
voice husky in spite of himself. “You have indeed been 
an influence to me and mine for good ever since I have 
known you, and I profoundly regret that we did not know 
of your existence, so close to us, earlier. Believe me, I am 
sincerely grateful to you for all you have done for us. Can 
I be of any service in any way I shall be more than glad.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


581 


The Patriarch clasped the hand of the speaker warmly, 
saying, “ Providence has permitted us to be of mutual bene- 
fit to each other, but so much sunshine came into my life 
with your dear child that my poor services are lost in the 
brightness. I know what you both have suffered to give 
me back my son to bless my dying eyes. I do not forget 
here, nor shall I there. As a last favor, please act with my 
boy in arranging matters. Your counsel will be invaluable 
to him. Familiar scenes must have a powerful attraction for 
those in the higher life. You have my old home. I shall 
visit you there.” 

Hiram, his arm still in a sling, called later on to see the 
old Chief. 

“ My faithful friend, brave and true you have ever been 
found by me. I know what you have done and suffered. 
If I have any regret in leaving this earth-life, it is because I 
have to be parted from such friends. Fidelity and cour- 
age, what a grand foundation to build on ! Earth has 
much to teach you yet, Hiram, and your probation may be 
long, but this rugged integrity is a splendid basis, and one 
or two hundred years hence you will have developed a 
manhood which in its many-sided excellence will bless the 
world.” 

The “ Giraffe ” shifted his weight uneasily from one foot 
to another, and the tears filled his honest eyes, as he tried 
to express himself. “ Naow, Chief, yer know a heap, but 
I sorter guess yer out on my tether. No hunderd years to 
come on my shollers, I reckon not. Hunderd years !” 
said the trapper, as if calculating mentally. “ No, no. Chief, 
not for this critter. Durn me — beg pardin. Chief — but 
Gretchen’d be gone, an’ Squeaking Jim’d be used up, an’ 
the eyes’d give out, an’ couldn’t see ter set the traps. No, 
thankee. Chief, no hunderd years for me.” 

Then the thought seemed to come to him that the part- 
ing hour was near, and that he must really say good-by to 


582 


THE EUSSIAH KEFUGEE. 


one he had known and, in his inide, honest way, served so 
many years ; and taking the pale hand of the dying man 
in his great one, he raised it reverently to his lips, and 
without a word or look to anyone turned and left the room, 
something like a suppressed sob alone reaching the ear to 
give indication of the deep feeling that shook the rugged 
frame. 

“The old Exile lay gazing at the glory of the western 
heavens painted by the setting sun, for the cave opening 
was toward the west, and the sight seemed to give him 
pleasure, for a half smile illumined his face and words of 
admiration from time to time escaped his lips. At length 
he said, feebly, “ Give me your hands, my children,” and 
Adolph and Elsie, standing on opposite sides, clasped his 
hands. 

“ Elsie, my dear child, Adolph has something to tell you 
when I am no longer with you. You promise me, my son ?” 

The younger Eussian bowed his head assentingly, and 
yet, as Elsie perceived, with a slightly troubled look, as if 
the promise cost him something. 

“Elsie, you will, I know, deal frankly and truthfully 
with him, and kindly and wisely too, for ’tis not in you to 
be otherwise. I have promised him this, my dear one, on 
your behalf, yet though I know your heart, circumstances 
may control and duty forbid, but we will not anticipate. 
Nadia, Sophie, Ivan, farewell. The great change is already 
on me, the shadows of transition environ me, but these 
are but the dulness of the here in contrast with the bright- 
ness of the there. Elsie, you will care for these friends and 
this little one, w'ho have cared for and brightened the path- 
way of the old man during these latter years ? ” This was 
said almost beseechingly. 

“ I will indeed, dear father ; trust me.” 

“I know it, but I half feared to leave them in a strange 
country alone, and I away — so far away, perhaps.” 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


583 


He rested quietly for a few moments, as the last faint 
glimmers of the sunset yet lingered about the cave mouth. 

My son, my twice-born child, it is hard to part from 
you, but voices from beyond, oh, so many voices, summon 
me away. You cannot hear them, but I do. And now 
their faces begin to show on the other shore, and their 
beclioning fingers gleam brightly as they urge me to hasten. 
Where am I ? ” he said, suddenly opening his eyes and 
gazing lovingly in turn on each one. “A last kiss, my 
’children.” 

Each in turn imprinted a kiss upon the placid face, 
almost cold now, as from the breath of the “Messenger” 
falling upon it. The eyes closed, and a stillnessj, broken 
only by stifled sobs, fell on all. Then again the eyes 
opened widely, filled with a wondrous light; the light of 
eternity ! The sun had risen on the hills of God. 


CHAPTER LI. 


THE FINAL TESTAMENT. 

The next morning ]Mi\ Hastings, who had reached the 
cave a few moments after the aged man had passed away, 
and brought his daughter home much prostrated by the 
sad scene, said quietly to her at breakfast : “ Elsie, I sj^ll 
go this morning to arrange about matters with Mi\ Adolph. 
This and your late experiences have been very trying to 
you, so I wish that you would remain at home and rest, for 
we must not have you sick again.” 

Elsie was standing in the bay-window looking toward 
the avenue, and at this moment saw a horseman coming. 

“Father, here is Mr. Adolph, I think, coming now,” and 
the next moment the gentleman had reached the door and 
dismounted. 

“ I must ask pardon for intruding so early, but I felt that 
I must consult with you at once.” He was very pale and 
showed the effects of grief and a sleepless night. “ I have 
brought my father’s will.” His voice faltered badly, but he 
went on bravely, “As I think he intimated to you, Mr. 
Hastings, you are appointed executor jointly with myself. 
You will not, I trust, feel this a burden. I know it is asking 
much of you, but father had such faith in you, and con- 
fidence in your judgment.” 

“I shall be more than glad, my friend, to aid in any way 
at this sad time. My obligation to your dear father is 
such that I shall be delighted to lighten it even in a small 
degree.” 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


585 


“ Please don’t mention obligation, Mr. Hastings. The 
dear one who has gone never allowed the mention of such 
a thing on your part, and I must protest in his name. But 
let me read the will.” 

The document was properly drawn up in legal fashion 
and witnessed, dating back some months. ^ In it a sufficient 
sum of money >was left in Mr. Hastings’ hands for invest- 
ment so as to produce five hundred dollars a year. Of this 
income one hundred and fifty dollars was to be paid to 
Hiram and his wife, and continue to the survivor after the 
death of either, and the remaining three hundred and fifty 
per annum to be paid to Ivan Petrovich, his wife, and child. 
The bulk of the estate, about ten thousand dollars, was left 
to the son, asking him not to forget some poor people that 
for many years had been helped in their life-struggles by 
the bounty of the aged cave-dweller. 

As the son explained, aU over necessary outlay had gone 
in this way since he remembered. “ My father was quite 
wealthy at one time, but constant giving has reduced his 
estate to what is here mentioned. He has travelled hun- 
dreds of miles with me investigating cases, for he claimed 
that to give carelessly or to the unworthy was a crime, or 
to help those who could help themselves.” 

After arranging his estate and requesting that Mr. Hast- 
ings would try and procure some suitable position for Ivan, 
the singular testator proceeded to give directions concern- 
ing the disposal of his body. 

He directed that the Cave should be his vault. That he be 
placed, just as he died, on the couch on which he had slept 
so many long years, and this carried into the great chapel- 
room of the subterranean house and placed where the water 
impregnated by the lime would fall from the lofty roof 
continually upon the body, and so in process of time petri- 
faction take place. That as speedily as possible everything 
of value be removed from the Cave and the family take up 


586 


THE KUSSIAH EEFUGEE. 


their abode in some suitable dwelling as may be selected 
or suggested by IVIr. Hastings. That then all the known 
avenues of approach to the Cave proper be blocked up by 
means provided and known to his son. “Not that I 
would deprive the world of aught which could properly 
gratify or benefit them for a mere selfish caprice, but con- 
sider that there are wonders enough on the fair surface of 
God's earth to afford abundant opportunity for contem- 
plation and study, without feeling it necessary to open this 
small vacuum in the crust of the planet merely to gratify a 
vulgar curiosity. Besides, there being other reasons more 
weighty bearing upon the happiness and possibly safety of 
others which largely govern me in this action.” 

The testament concluded thus : “ So, dear friends, you 
will grant my last requests, leaving me alone with God in 
this temple reared in the silence and solitude of the long 
ages. This aged tenement, which has withstood the storms 
and vicissitudes of almost a century and a quarter, being 
the third house of flesh in which the spirit-tenant has 
sojourned since first launched upon this earthly sphere by 
the fiat of Deity, will change by imperceptible transi- 
tion to the unyielding rock of which the frame- work of the 
earth is made. Do not question the sanity of your old 
friend, for no cloud through his long career has ever dark- 
ened his mental horizon in the sense of obscuring intel- 
lectual operation, but read calmly and judge dispassion- 
ately what I thus write in aU the solemn hush which falls 
upon me standing here in the vestibule of that mysterious 
change which men call death. Sad misnomer, wild mis- 
conception, for there is no death in the universe of God ! 

“ This hour finds me upon the Pisgah height of prophetic 
vision, and 'tis given me to forecast and teU of things to 
come. I see light, light approaching, and lambent flames 
playing upon countless gi'aves, where the sorrowing children 
of Time laid away their fellows with despair, and chill and 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


587 


darkness in their hearts, amid tears, and groans, and anguish. 
But emancipation from gloom, and doubt, and dread is fast 
approaching and heaven is coming nearer earth, so near 
that soon the whispers of the angelic throng shall be heard 
by the children of men. Then the sons of earth shall see 
and know the reality of that other and larger hfe about 
which they now speculate so sadly, so wrongly, and so de- 
spairingly. 

“The preposterous thought that the Eternal Wisdom 
created and matured this marvellous world through such 
countless ages of changing from lower to higher con- 
ditions merely to give its children a taste, a mere glimpse 
of its treasures, will disappear. The monstrous idea that 
chance, accident, carelessness, mistakes could be allowed to 
determine whether a spirit clothed in earthly robes was to 
have a few months, or fifty or a hundred years, of this life, 
and the training which it could give, must pass away from 
the human mind as unworthy of the Supreme Wisdom. It 
has been given to me to know, in my own personal life-ex- 
perience, and also in that of others, that men live and re-live 
here, sometimes for centuries, according to their needs, 
and that no soul finally reaches the next world until it has 
received all the education and development which human 
experience can give under every necessary variety of con- 
dition. 

“Shall the infinite Power which called together forces 
from afar and focussed them into the wonderful me, and 
projected through the channel of birth this me upon the 
earth for training and education, be thwarted by the fall 
of a dead branch from the tree-top, or the sting of an 
insect, or the advent of a fever, or the taking of a poison, 
or any of the thousand dangers which beset human physical 
existence ? The idea is absurd and cannot be entertained 
for a moment. Of coui’se, the body could have been 
created invulnerable and impervious to any disease or 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


m 

outside influence, but then all the laws of matter must have 
been abrogated, and the invariability of nature in her 
operations been invalidated. How much easier to return 
successively the being, robbed by accident or malign in- 
fluences of his birth-right, by reincarnation. 

“ I do not claim that all will have this rebirth, for all do 
not need it. The offspring of those w'ho have attained this 
full earth-development wall, by heredity, possess largely the 
virtues of their parents, and so an ordinary life here may 
suffice. So, too, as the race moves on progressively, shorter 
sojourn in this lower world will be required until such 
perfection may be attained that the planet will have ac- 
complished its end, supposing that it was created for the 
purpose of developing and educating our race alone, a 
multitude of souls or immortal beings, in number known 
only to the arithmetic of God. 

“ I put these things on record here, because in these latter 
days they are so clear to me, standing as it were a foot on 
each shore, ready to depart and enter on the next stage of 
being when the Great Father calls. I will now mention 
what opportunity has not offered to speak of before, and 
partly because of the repugnance and distrust with which 
people receive any thoughts or statements which run coun- 
ter to previous conceptions or prejudices. 

“Some years ago, while travelling in Southern Europe, 
accident revealed to me the scene of my earthly cai’eer 
immediately preceding this one. The scene opened up 
before me as I proceeded in my investigations and was 
amply corroborated by a memory of details which w^as at 
once startling and delightful. I traced my life — the former 
life — from birth until I stood beside the tomb in which the 
mortal part was deposited at the age of ninety years. A 
strange story you say ! Yes, but the only difference be- 
tween my experience and that of most others is, that they 
remember confusedly, and I clearly. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


589 


I have finished. The great future will bring out these 
truths as men are able to receive them ; to that future I 
leave them. The hand wdiich traced these lines is cold now 
and soon will change to stone, with the rest of my form, by 
nature’s wondrous alchemy. Let no mortal intrude upon 
my solitude after loving hands have placed me. Kepose, 
repose in the everlasting arms — the arms of the Mother 
Nature, the arms of the Father God ! But activity, a glor- 
ious activity — life, a grand life, in the presence of in- 
finite being and infinite love ! Farewell.” 

As Adolph ceased reading, his head dropped between his 
hands and he leaned forward on the table, the hot tears, not 
to be repressed, falling upon it. Elsie and her father were 
deeply affected also, and for a moment absolute silence 
prevailed. 

At length the Kussian looked up. “Father would 
grieve if he saw me mourning thus, and it maybe weakness 
on my part to grieve for one who had almost doubled com- 
mon life. But he was not old to me in any sense, and was 
truly as asiother self. I spent the entire night reading 
this manuscript and thinking of past, present, and future, 
and felt that I must see 5'Ou at once and read it to you, so 
that matters could be attended to without delay.” 

It was decided that Sophie should be brought at once 
to the Hermitage, and that Ivan and his wife should move 
the contents of the Cave to the cottage at the gate which 
had been originally built by Mr. Whitely as a porter’s 
lodge, but kept as a tool-house by the present proprietor. 
“ I will have it cleared out and put in repair this very day. 
I decided some time ago to put a man in that house who 
could work on the place, while his wife attended the gate, 
as soon as I could find a suitable person. Ivan shall have 
the place.” 


CHAPTEK LH. 


“LIKE A PALE MARTYR IN HIS SHIRT OF FIRE.” 

Two weeks later Elsie Hastings sat by the library window 
sewing. She was alone, her father being absent in New 
York. She was thinking of the events of the past few 
weeks and a feeling of sadness weighed heavily upon her 
spirits. She could not keep her thoughts from reverting to 
the white-robed figui*e resting in that silent halL It haunt- 
ed her like a spectre. “ And yet,” she said to herself, “ how 
appropriate and fitting such a mausoleum for such a 
man ! ” That superb room with the beautiful pendants 
and exquisite creations in white — so stainless and pure, 
emblematic of the life that lived so long and went out there 
into the profundity of the unknown — came up before her, 
and occupied her thoughts to the exclusion of everything 
else. 

Sophie had retired to rest some time before ; and really 
the little maiden was a great comfort to her, with her art- 
less ways and pretty speech, for her command of the 
English 'Was remai’kable under the circumstances. 

Elsie thought of this family and how she had been led to 
know them, and how lai-ge a place they had, one and all, 
come to occupy in her life. And gradually her reverie 
deepened and her thoughts became more complex. She 
did not hear the girl enter the room, so absorbed was she 
in her thoughts, which had gradually left the dead and 
fixed themselves upon the living. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


591 


“ ]VIi\ Adolph, miss,” repeated Sarah for the third time, 
and then she started like a guilty thing detected, for the 
subject of her thoughts stood before her. 

“ Please forgive me. I suppose I was in what father calls 
one of my browm studies,” she exclaimed, with burning, 
telltale cheeks, as she took his hand. 

Several times had the gentleman been at the Hermitage 
during these past days, and Elsie felt that he had some 
communication to make from which he shrank. Perhaps 
she surmised the nature of it, but no hint from him helped 
her to verify her suspicion, if such she held. He had 
spoken vaguely of his future actions to her father, but as 
if his future was a matter of very small moment indeed to 
anyone, even to himself. 

Now, however, she felt that a sort of crisis had arrived, 
and was not surprised to hear him say, almost abruptly, 
after the usual kind greeting which was natural to him : 
“I have made up my mind at last, and to-night will fulfil 
the promise referred to by my father on his death-bed. 
But first promise me that you will not allow your sympathy 
or 'attachment to my father, or kindness, or memory of 
slight services rendered, to influence you in any way what- 
ever, but that you will refuse to grant a request that is 
going to be made to you ; will you promise me this ? ” 

“How can I promise when I don’t know what the request 

is, or whether it would be right or wise to refuse to grant 
it ? ” she asked, as if pei-plexed. 

“ But if I assure you that it will be best for you in every 
way to refuse the request, will you promise me ? ” 

“Well, in that case I suppose I must say that it depends 
upon who makes the request.” 

“No, I assure you that the person making it does it 
under compulsion and will be grateful to you if you refuse 

it. Pray, promise me.” 

“If that is the case then I promise/’ she answered 


592 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


dubiously, and yet unwilling to seem obstinate and un- 
reasonable. 

A look of triumph blended with pain shot over his face, 
and he took a seat beside her, for before he had been 
standing. 

“ My dear friend, father, as you well know, loved you as a 
daughter, and I was his son, at least by adoption, and it was 
the dearest wish of his life that” — he paused as if puzzled as 
to the words to use — “ that somehow you might become one 
of his family. Do not blame me for my folly, for I am obliged 
to speak thus. You and I have been brought into some try- 
ing experiences together, and — well, he knew my heart ; I 
could keep no thought from him, and he came to think — you 
know he was very old, and perhaps could not see in these mat- 
ters as clearly as he could in others — that you regarded me 
more kindly than he was justified in doing. I argued with 
him. I represented to him that I was a country-bred man, 
uneducated, with no social polish, w^hose life had been spent 
in seclusion amid simple people — good and true souls as -were 
ever clothed in flesh, but uncultured, with one exception — 
himself. That I had no profession or social standing, and 
was also poor. That you were attractive, educated, accom- 
plished, cultured, refined — a member of a proud family, and 
an heiress. What possible affinity could there be between 
us ? The sun shines on many streams, but the stream sees 
but one glorious orb in the heavens. Supposing that I did 
worship 'at the shrine, I Tvas only one of many, and the 
goddess of the shrine smiles for all who worship ; good- 
ness could do no less.” 

Here his mood seemed to change, and the tremendous 
self-control, which she felt he was exercising, to give way. 
He seized her hand convulsively, and his eyes glowed in the 
twilight. 

“ Elsie, you have been the morning star of my life, the in- 
spiration of m;j^ being ; you have made something of a man 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


593 


out of a mere clod, and taught me the meaning of life. But 
is that any reason why I should ask you to link your fate, 
bright and promising, with a nameless nobody, a foreigner, 
that your friends would despise, yet I love you devotedly, 
and ask you to be my wife, for I promised my father that I 
would do this. I await your answer. Kemember your 
promise.” 

He had risen in his overpowering emotion, and now 
again dropped into his seat. “Can you marvel that my 
soul gravitates toward you as the needle to the magnetic 
stone, that I love you with all the intensity of my being ? 
Do I not owe to j^ou so much that has made that being 
worth having ? Did you not leave home and father to 
venture among savages and bring me to a dying parent’s 
bedside ? I cannot allow you to belittle what you have done. 
But for you I should be still in capti\dty among those 
bloodthirsty Apaches, and my father would have passed 
away unattended by his son. I had been two months a 
wretched captive when Hiram found me. I had made 
superhuman effoiis to escape, and each time failing, had 
as punishment to ‘ run the gauntlet,’ and was promised death 
by fire on the first favorable opportunity. No ! If I loved 
you not I should be a monster. Yet no word of this should 
have escaped my lips had not my father laid this injunction 
on me and bound me by a promise. I am not selfish 
enough, not so ],ost to all sense of true manhood as to take 
advantage of the feeling of gratitude, or sympathy, or pity, 
or other prompting of kindness in your nature, for what 
the dear one passed away had been able to do for you, or, 

■ casually, myself. It would cost you too much, and I de- 
mand no such sacrifice, even if your father sanctioned it, 
which is not possible. No, I go back to New Mexico, car- 
rying my great love in my heart as a star in the night shin- 
ing from a moonless sky. I shall become a frontiersman, 
hunter, naturalist, and so may lead a useful if not a happy 
38 - 


594 


THE EUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


life. Fear not to hurt my feelings, but remember your 
promise, and speak frankly.” 

He stood again before her, with folded arms, calm, re- 
signed, all trace of outward passion gone, save as the 
flashing eyes told of the tempest within. 

Elsie was not by any means unmoved dmdng this impas- 
sioned appeal. She realized the generosity and magnan- 
imity which prompted the strange action of this declared 
lover, in previously exacting a promise of denial of his suit, 
when all the memories and associations of the past, and 
every look and tone, even the very promise asked and given 
— given without suspicion of its meaning — pleaded power- 
fully on his behalf. Candor, honor, truth were written 
on his brow ; dignity, manliness, courage, filial affection 
characterized his life ; and then the memory of benefits con- 
ferred by him and his, and of perils and trials encountered 
together — all this spoke with ten thousand tongues and as- 
sailed the heart’s fortress with a power that compelled ca- 
pitulation. 

Her rapidly changing color, the tears trembling upon 
the lashes, the half attempts to speak in the pauses of his 
impetuous utterances, would have indicated promptly to 
any suitor not preoccupied with a mighty resolve to stifle 
the very passion which inspired his whole being, filled his 
heart, and gave eloquence to his words — the true state of 
her feelings toward him. That she reciprocated his affec- 
tion ardently, truly — revealed itself in every lineament of her 
expressive face, changing responsive to the emotion within, 
like a mountain lake ruffled by the play of unseen currents 
in the depths below. 

“Elsie,” he said, taking her hand, for as yet she could not 
find words, nor trust her tongue to answer him — “ I may 
call you so for once, the first and last time — I await your 
answer, which sends me forth into the world a homeless 
wanderer, after a brief dream of joy that filled and absorbed 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


595 


my life. But fear not to speak that word ; I can bear it. 
If I have been weak before, I am strong now. It is your 
duty to your father, your friends, and 5^ourself to speak it, 
and I entreat that you allow no minor considerations to 
influence you in .speaking. If I suffer, it is j ust ; I have been 
presumptuous — mad. Oh, God, I tried to struggle against 
this,” and he strode up and down the room, the whirlwind 
of his passion again for a moment sweeping over him. 
“ To escape, I left my home and my aged parent and fled 
to that wild region, only to find that the mind cannot fly 
from itself. But I am mad. Why should I torture your 
kind heart thus ? ” for, overcome by emotion, she was weep- 
ing. ‘‘ Speak, Elsie — Miss Hastings — and I will depart.” 

She must speak now, and though her voice trembled 
somewhat, and a mist veiled the brightness of her eyes, she 
said reproachfully, “ Was it kind to bind me by a promise, 
and then tempt me to break it ? Am I so selfish as to allow 
all the generosity and self-sacrifice to be on one side? 
Still you leave me no alternative but to say — Be it so. I 
keep my promise.” 

At her opening words his face lighted up for an instant, 
then paled into deeper gloom, and his iron self-control 
seemed to take a new grip ; as sometimes when the night 
begins to lower, and the shroud of darkness settle over all, 
a sudden gleam from the horizon restores the vanished half 
light, making the blackness visible for a fleeting moment, 
passing almost ere perceived into profounder obscurity. 

“ You reject me, then ? ” he asked eagerly, yet hoarsely, 
in a voice which seemed to sound the depths of suffering — 
such accents as might come from racked victim when the 
torture had become almost unendurable, and he longs for 
any change, even death itself, to end speedily his misery. 

She bowed her head, not trusting herself to speak. 

He grasped her hand with one that burned with the 
fever of emotion leaping through his veins, turned, reached 


596 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


the door, looked back, saying, “ Farewell forever ! It is 
better so. Thank you for this, and forgive and forget my 
weakness. May the glorified spirit of my dear father be 
with you to shield and bless you always.” 

An instant more and the darkness of the night received 
and hid him from sight. 

Elsie sat where he had left her, her head bowed on her 
hands, for some moments; then she started up, a suddeK 
resolution seeming to take possession of her. Hurriedly 
she sought her writing-desk and with hands that trembled 
wrote hastily. She rang the bell. “ Tell James to take 
this at once to the cottage at the gate, to give it into IMr. 
Adolph’s hands, and wait for an answer.” 

When the Russian received the note he was busily en- 
gaged in making the concluding preparations for his jour- 
ney early the next morning. He answered almost impa- 
tiently, when summoned below by Nadia, for his whole 
system was unnerved, and he longed for daylight and the 
beginning journey to distract his thoughts and restore in 
some degree his equanimity. On glancing at the writing 
he trembled so that he was forced to seat himself in order 
to conceal his agitation. He then read as follows : 

My Dear Friend : You exacted a promise from me, which I 
faithfully kept. I now ask one of you in return. It is this — that you 
defer your journey until I send you a package to he delivered to my 
Indian friends, Sangar and Maunita. Promise me this in writing, 
and greatly oblige, 

Elsie Hastings. 

“ I thought sui’ely the bitterness of death was past ; it is 
cruel to continue the process,” he murmured to himself. 
Then with a sigh of infinite pain and weariness he tore the 
half sheet off the note just received and wrote in pencil : 

Dear Miss Hastings : It must be as you request. I purposed 
starting at four o’clock, but promise to await your package. 

Adolph K. 


CHAPTER LHI. 


HEART LANGUAGE. 

‘'What time did father say he would be here? ’’Elsie 
asked on receiving Adolph’s answer. 

“ About one o’clock in the morning, miss,” replied the 
girl ; “but he said particularly that you was not to sit up 
for him.” 

“ Yes, I know, but you need not stay up for him. I will 
let him in, Jane.” 

“ She returned to the library, and now noticed, as she 
took up a book to try and read, a small cabinet of curious 
workmanship lying upon the centre table. She began in- 
specting it and was struck with the beauty of the carving. 
Then she saw an envelope addressed to herself, and a key 
lying upon it, resting on the table by the cabinet. The 
envelope bore the inscription in the quaint,, clean hand- 
writing she remembered so well: “To my very dear 
daughter, Elsie Hastings. From her old friend, Nicholas 
Kuprianoff. 

“ Dear child, I have not forgotten you, though I am here 
and you there. No flimsy wall of partition can hinder soul 
from soul.” 

Some hot tears fell on the paper as she read and re-read 
before opening the cabinet. It was of richly carved oak, 
having on the lid a red circle of ivory and a small steel dag- 
ger piercing the centre. The box contained a number of 
jewels of antique and chaste design — a necklace, bracelets, 
rings, and brooches, besides several other ornaments of a 


598 


THE KUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


pattern she had not seen before. The whole formed a 
unique collection, intrinsically valuable, as well as in a 
larger degree from >association. 

A card at the bottom of the case had traced on it in red 
ink : ‘‘ These heirlooms, coming to me through two centu- 
ries, were intended for my daughter, had Adolph married 
before I left earth ; but failing that, are for my dear adopted 
child — my daughter Elsie Hastings.” 

Adolph had spoken of this cabinet casually — a mere hint 
of a keepsake left by the Patriarch for Elsie, and had pur- 
posely refrained from bringing it over before, but now had 
placed it upon the table and forgotten to mention the fact, 
so completely had the painful emotions of the hour domin- 
ated all his faculties. 

“Elsie, my dear, what is the meaning of this? You 
should not be sitting up at this time.” But something in his 
daughter’s face checked him, and he followed her quietly to 
the library. 

After bringing his slippers and dressing-gown — he watch- 
ing her, wonderingiy, in her unusual reticence, realizing 
that something had gone wrong — she threw her arms 
about his neck and cried bitterly. He did not seek to stay 
her tears for a few moments, knowing well that this out- 
burst would relieve her pent-up feelings, but sat fondly 
and soothingly stroking her long, glossy black hail’, which 
hung loose and dishevelled on her shoulders. 

Finally he said, quietly, “ Elsie, my dear, tell me all.” 

Then with an effort she calmed herself and told him 
gradually the events of the evening. 

Mr. Hastings listened without interruption to the narra- 
tive, and remained silent for some moments after she 
ceased ; so long, indeed, that his daughter half-feared he 
might be angry. He was not exactly what would be called 
a proud man, that she well knew, always placing worth and 
genuine manhood before birth or wealth or name ; but 


THE KtJSSIAN REFUGEE. 


599 


yet she knew there was that in his nature which shrank 
painfully from the, so to speak, Bohemian element of life. 
He had, she was painfully conscious at this moment, a sort 
of feeling or prejudice — if such a sentiment can be enter- 
tained by a just man — a sort of republican contempt for 
foreigners, aside from the British, whom he did not regard 
in that hght. At length he looked up, and his manner was 
grave though the voice was kind. 

“ Elsie, I half-dreaded something of this sort. I greatly 
esteem this young man, and we are deeply indebted to him 
and his adopted father in many ways, and I should have 
rejoiced, if opportunity had offered, to manifest my grati- 
tude in some other way than this. But, my dear child, as 
I have often told you, your happiness is my only concern. 
Your dear mother left you as a precious legacy to me, and 
my only anxiety is to prove worthy of the trust. In the 
light of recent events it seems useless to put the question, 
for I anticipate yoiu’ answer, but I will ask it : Do you, my 
daughter, really love this man ? Do you feel that his pres- 
ence in your life is truly necessary to your happiness ? ” 

There was no mistaking either the tone or the words as 
they reached his ear in the silence of that room, the ticking 
of the clock on the mantel alone being audible, its hands 
pointing to the matutinal hour of two. 

“I do, father, with my whole soul. He is the noblest 
man I have ever met.” 

“In that case, my dear, you may retire to rest, and sleep 
soundly, and I will see this Spartan of the nineteenth cen- 
tury in the morning ; especially,” he said, regarding the 
blushing girl with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “ since 
your Talleyrand diplomacy has tethered him so nicely.” 

Elsie flung her ai’ms round her father’s neck, kissing him 
fondly on both cheeks. “ Thank you, my own dear father,” 
she said fervently, and left the room. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

s 

DAYLIGHT COMES AND THE SHADOWS FLY. 

The next morning, at six o’clock, Mr. Hastings was stand- 
ing at the avenue gate, glancing up the road leading to 
Melville. 

“ Did he say positively he would be back at six ? ” he asked 
of Nadia, who was watering some flowers in front of the 
cottage, which her taste and skill had made look very pretty 
and attractive. 

“ Yes, sir,” she said. “ He say he go station to find out 
for his journey.” 

“ Ah, yes, I think I see him now, and will go and meet 
him.” 

Adolph glanced up shyly as the proprietor of the Hermit- 
age approached, and for a moment paused in painful inde- 
cision. 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Adolph,” he said, cheerfully, at the 
same time offering his hand. ‘‘ You take early walks, I see.” 

The other looked at him furtively and inquiringly ; but 
the frank smile he met in return removed any unpleasant 
suspicions he might have, and he answered, with something 
of his old-time frankness : “ Yes, sir, it seems to me that in 
the early morning the true spirit of nature is abroad. . I 
get my best thoughts at these times.” 

“I fear very few take much time to think, early or late, 
in this busy, rushing age of ours. But I want to have a 
talk with you, so suppose we walk up the road a piece.” 


THE EHSSIAH KEFIJGEE. 


601 


The other looked somewhat uneasy, but readily as- 
sented. 

“ I hear that you propose to leave us, and wish to remon- 
strate with you. Surely you can do as well here as you can 
in that wild country of New Mexico. Of course there is 
much to attract a young man in that strange frontier life. 
Plenty of danger and adventure, and were I a few years 
younger would feel like joining you ; but there is another 
side to the question. It is a rough country and people, and 
for a while rough men will do to break in both the one and 
the other. Now, I believe that the true prosperity of the 
world depends largely upon each individual doing the work 
he can do best, and is best adapted to. You can do better 
work than that ; so why throw yourself away ? You are 
still in the prime of your manhood and strength, are intel- 
ligent and capable, possessing qualities which may make 
you influential among your fellows. Had you not best 
reconsider your resolution ? ” 

The other had listened patiently, and the flashing 
changes of his expressive features from time to time, 
showed the effect of the words on him. He looked down 
as Mr. Hastings ceased speaking, and seemed to be study- 
ing the formation of a bowlder lying near. 

Then he raised his eyes. “ Thank you sincerely, my dear 
Mr. Hastings, but I have looked it all over, and feel that it 
is best for me to go away to a new country, and begin an 
entirely new life. My life is broken here. Besides, what 
should I turn to ? I have but little education, and so a 
rough, out-of-door life is best suited to me and I to it.” 

“ Well, well, I agree with you that a life out of doors will 
suit you best — at least an occupation which involves that, 
and so I was going to make you an offer.” 

“ Please don’t, dear sir ; my mind is made up. I really 
cannot stay here, but I am profoundly grateful to you, be- 
lieve me, I am.” 


602 


THE EUSSIAN KEFUGEE. 


“ Yes, I know, but I must tell you anyway. I am be- 
coming somewhat old and need assistance in managing my 
farm here. Now, I must either employ a superintendent 
or sell part of the estate, for I cannot attend to it. So I 
offer you the position of overseer at a liberal salary. You 
are honest, intelligent, and skilful, and will just suit me. 
What do you say ? Take a few days to think of it if you 
like.” 

The Kussian impulsively grasped his hand. “ You are 
a good man, Mr. Hastings — the best after my father I ever 
met — but I dare not stay here ; it is best to go ; ” and his 
voice vibrated with the misery within him. “ Your whole 
estate could not tempt me to stay. What is money, posi- 
tion, anything, to peace of mind, and that I could not have 
here?” 

Mr. Hastings regarded him keenly while he uttered these 
emotion-choked words, and then, as if satisfied with the 
scrutiny, said with a warmth in marked contrast with his 
previous deliberate utterance, “ Give me your hand, Mr. 
Adolph. I honor you, upon my word I do. You have 
manifested a delicacy and self-denial which is exceedingly 
rare. Elsie has told me all.” 

His hearer started convulsively, coloring painfully. 

. “You love my daughter, and that is the reason you are 
leaving ; because you believed such a match would be ut- 
terly distasteful to me. Perhaps I had other and different 
views for her, but that is neither here nor there. I believe 
she is attached to you. You have been brought into curi- 
ous relationship with each other during the past year, and 
have been mutually helpful. Now, I am not a hard or un- 
natural man, and the happiness of my child is my first con- 
sideration. So you see, the seemingly impossible may be 
possible after all,” and the speaker smiled almost cheer- 
fully, for the thought of giving his loved one to another 
was a painful one to him in any case. 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


603 


The play of feeling on the ingenuous countenance of the 
hearer, as the father went on speaking, was wonderful. 
The rebound from the depth of a pitiless and hopeless fate 
to the open sunlight of happiness — the exultation which 
showed in every feature, and could not be repressed, seem- 
ing to fairly transfigure him, — this glory of a brief season of 
joy which gave free scope for hope and faith and affection 
to soar afar into the rare ether of bliss, known but once 
perhaps on earth, a foretaste of the heaven which is to be, 
this tide coming in with that one word of Mr. Hastings — 
“ possible,” bore him aloft upon its surging billows. But 
the face darkened as an afterthought came. 

‘T fear you have not fully considered the nature of what 
your generous words involve. Eemember, I am by birth a 
peasant, of peasant stock, for I will not at this moment 
claim Nicholas Kuprianoff as my parent, being in your eyes 
merely an adopted child of his, although you know how he 
regarded the matter, a belief which I share. But I am, as I 
said, in the eyes of the world, of peasant blood, uneducated, 
never being at school in my life. I know nothing of polite 
society or its usages. A peasant, an ignoramus, a child 
of nature — refiect, this is the man that you propose to make 
your relative, to receive into your family and introduce to 
your cultured friends ; to be a reproach to you and to cause 
you to regret in the future the weakness of a moment of gen- 
erosity. I cannot permit such a sacrifice. If I loved your 
daughter less I might weakly yield to your kindness, if it be 
that she really cares for me, but I love her too devotedly to 
permit her to give up social position and the advantages of 
her birth for my sake. My secret should have remained 
locked in my own bosom and been carried to the grave 
but for the promise made to my dying parent. The keep- 
ing of that promise has cost me more than tongue can tell, 
but the agony of death is over now, and I am resigned to 
the inevitable. It was not a right thing to promise, per- 


604 


THE EUSSIAN EEFUGEE. 


haps not right in that noble old man to ask it, but he knew 
my secret, and the deep love he bore us both prompted 
him, and in the misty moments of death’s twilight it may 
be, he saw less clearly than usual. I acknowledge with 
shame that I agreed too easily to his proposal, for it may be 
that if I had protested he would not have insisted ; but what 
could I do at such a moment ? ” 

Adolph had spoken rapidly, as if making a confession, half 
to himself and half to Mr. Hastings, hastening as if in fear 
lest voice or resolution, or both, should fail him ; and also 
possibly to preclude interruption, which was attempted on 
his hearer’s part once or twice. He went on : “In the light 
of that death-bed, and by the blessed agency of sorrow, I 
have come to regard life on higher lines than before, and 
to realize that self-sacrifice for those we love is alone worthy 
of true manhood, as it is a duty, and should be a pleasure. 
Let us forget this as if it had never been, Mr. Hastings, 
and remember the poor Kussian as one who had accidentally 
crossed your path, and for a brief period basked in the sun- 
shine of your life with you. I cannot see my future life, 
but, come weal or woe, never shall I forget the generosity 
you have manifested this morning.” 

It might be so settled, my friend, if only you and I 
were concerned in the matter,” replied his hearer, with 
kindling eyes ; “ but you forget that there is another who 
has something to say on the subject. Come and take break- 
last with us. No, I can’t excuse you. Kemember Elsie 
wants to give you a package.” 

And so, perforce almost, the younger man yielded, and the 
two bent their Steps toward the mansion. 

A wrinkling of the brow, and lips tightly set as if to nerve 
the owner to bear with fortitude further trial, were the 
only indications the host saw of his guest’s disquietude. 

Mr. Hastings turned the conversation into other chan- 
nels, drawing attention to various changes which he pur- 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


605 


posed making in the grounds, talking so pleasantly that it 
proved infectious, and when they reached the mansion the 
visitor was almost cheerful. Elsie was on the veranda, hold- 
ing a book in her hand, but evidently absorbed in thought. 

“ Come here, Elsie, my dear,” called out her father. And 
as she came down the steps and gave her hand to the guest, 
^vith some slight confusion in her manner, he continued : 
“ Would you believe it, but I have been trying to persuade 
our friend here to give up his return to that wild Indian 
country and remain with us, and he positively refuses ? I 
have offered him the position of superintendent of the es- 
tate, but yet he declines. So I have brought him to you, 
asking that you will try and persuade him. By the way, 
Mr. Adolph, you have not seen those rare camellias sent me 
from New York ; they are superb, and you, as a botanist, will 
appreciate them. Elsie will show them to you. Don’t be 
late for breakfast.” So saying, IMr. Hastings ran lightly up 
the steps and into the house. 

Elsie led the way down one of the shady paths, followed 
by Adolph, who seemed as if dazed, and indeed felt as if in 
a dream. Not a word was spoken until the flower-bed was 
reached. 

After a few words of formal, forced admiration of the 
flowers, which merited the “ superb ” applied to them by 
the owner — but there are periods in our lives when heaven’s 
richest treasures brought before the \ision could not be 
seen or admired, for the sight is turned inward and we are 
blind to all external things — Adolph said, “ I received your 
note. Miss Elsie, and shall be glad to take the package. I 
start at eleven.” 

Elsie turned red and white alternately, and seemed to be 
ti*}dng to desperately resolve. She was more than com- 
monly courageous, as we know, but she knew the decisive 
moment had arrived, and she needed all her latent strength 
to meet it. 


606 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


“Perhaps it is improper, and in the eyes of the world 
unwomanly, for me to speak, but human happiness is too 
valuable to be thrown away for mere flimsy, make-believe 
propriety.” Her voice, at first wavering, gained steadiness, 
as she went on with increasing courage : “ You have told 
me that you love me, Mr. Adolph, and through a mistaken 
sense of duty are determined not to try and win me to be 
your wife. So you force me to speak, as in my opinion it 
would be more unwomanly to remain silent. You won me 
long ago by your innate nobility of character, which mani- 
fested itself in spite of disadvantages of education and so- 
cial position. You say you love me, and,” her eyes falling 
before his, “ your affection is returned, and if you ask me I 
will be your wife, let Madam Grundy say what she will.” 

“ What ! You have counted the cost and are really will- 
ing to be mine, with all the sacrifice which that means ? ” 
he asked, his voice trembling with emotion, and eyes filled 
with tears. 

“ Yes, I am,” she replied, firmly. 

“ Then I should be more than human if I longer refused 
the great blessing heaven offers me,” he exclaimed, raptur- 
ously, folding her in his arms. “Elsie, my own life and 
love, may the spirit of my father bless us this hour, as I 
know he would were he still on earth, and I believe can in 
that other sphere.” 

When they reached the house the owner saw that mat- 
ters were settled. Adolph led Elsie up to her father. 

“ Mr. Hastings, I may be weak, I may even be wicked, 
but I must throw myself on your generosity. Elsie has 
promised to be my wife, and I will accept the position of 
overseer you offered me a while back.” 

“All right,” replied the other ; “and as the salary was 
not mentioned, but was to be liberal, I suppose I must give 
you Elsie as the first instalment.” Then taking a hand of 
each he said, in graver vein : “ Perish pride, and let higher 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


607 


motives rule. To modify somewhat the words of the old 
Grecian sage, ‘ I would rather marry my child to a man 
without a college education and social position than to 
these advantages without a man.’ I shall not be the loser 
- in this, for I shall retain my daughter and gain a son. 
May Heaven bless you both.” 

The evening of our story-day has come, and the shadows 
of the ending begin to gather on the landscape. Little 
more remains to be told in these few moments of fast-fleet- 
ing light. Mrs. St. Johns appeared at the wedding with 
her two daughters, Hke a planet attended by satellites of 
only lesser brilliancy. Of course she was dreadfully 
shocked, and the word parvenu escaped her lips fre- 
quently. She confided to a few chosen friends that Elsie 
had had a much better offer ; in fact, an opportunity of 
marrying into a very respectable city family. “But she 
was always such a strange girl.” Mr. St. Johns agreed to 
forgive and forget the mining speculation, on condition that 
he be consulted in all similar proposed transactions for the 
future. Perhaps the very liberal fee received from the owner 
of the Hermitage for services in the trial helped to mollify 
matters. 

Dr. Seaman and his wife were, of course, conspicuous on 
the eventful day, the latter proving invaluable in aiding 
the bride in all matters incidental to the occasion. 

“Her large experience,” the doctor remarked, “gives 
Ellen the necessary weight and dignity to offset the wild 
Indian proclivities of the Star Performer.” 

As to Seaman himself, practice came to him from all 
sources, and he speedily took front rank in his profession 
in that neighborhood. 

To Elsie’s great joy, some beautiful mementos and the 
kindest of greetings from the Yew Villa reached the Her- 
mitage on the wedding morning, bringing pleasant memo- 
ries of the warm English hearts across the ocean. 


608 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


Sophie became a sort of privileged companion for Elsie, 
who resolved that she should be thoroughly educated. To 
be neai’ or with her friend was happiness enough for the 
little Russian maiden. Hiram, by the advice and assist- 
ance of Mr. Hastings, purchased some acres of ground near 
his cottage, and added the profits of small farming to the 
precarious earnings of a trapper. As for Gretchen, no day 
was long enough to express her joy at the turn events had 
taken in keeping her favorite Adolph at home, for next to 
Hans he was in her eyes the very salt of the earth. IVIrs. 
Wagram, after Elsie’s marriage, went to live with her sister, 
and finally married the chief of police, who was fascinated 
by the courage displayed by the vivacious Frenchwoman 
in the Hermitage business, of which he had knowledge 
through the sister. 

Of the hapless Harry Esmond nothing was known for 
several years, when accident revealed, through the medium 
of an old newspaper, that he had been shot dead by the 
guard in making a desperate effort to escape, at the penal 
station where he was confined. A New York paper with 
the notice of the marriage of his cousin was found marked 
in his cell, and Elsie and her husband drew their own con- 
clusions as to the attempt to escape and the wedding notice 
having anything to do with each other. At any rate, though 
Elsie shed some sad tears at the pitiful fate of her girl- 
hood’s playmate, yet she felt it was better so than that his 
escape should have given him opportunity for future crime, 
and she shuddered to think of what that crime might have 
been, prompted by the mad passions of jealousy and re- 
venge. 

The new couple decided that it would be better to drop 
the name of Kuprianoff, Adolph declaring that it would 
please him better to let it rest embalmed with the sacred 
memory of the grand soul he reverenced so profoundly — a 
sentiment his wife fully shared. So, at bis father-in-law’s 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


609 


request, he took the name of Hastings, Mi\ St. Johns ar- 
ranging that the act received such legal sanction as was 
necessary. But he was generally known as Mr. Adolph. 

He developed the Hermitage grounds and farm until 
they became famous in that section of country ; and among 
scientists he came to take high rank as a practical geolo- 
gist and botanist. Ably seconded by his wife in all works 
of benevolence and philanthropy, they made an enviable 
reputation in the neighborhood. 

Ml’. Hastings, as he came to know the truly noble quali- 
ties of his son-in-law, rejoiced that he had not yielded to 
the temptation which at one time so sorely tried him, to re- 
fuse to sanction an alliance which alarmed his pride. When 
later on he was solicited to run for the State Legislature, 
and declining, on account of his age, was asked to suggest 
a candidate, he promptly named Adolph. The Russian at 
first refused, but finally yielded as a matter of duty, and 
was elected, serving two terms. 

During this service, he was largely relieved of the more 
onerous cares of the Hermitage estate by the efficient ser- 
vices of our old friend Mr. Lippens, who finally decided to 
leave the detective service and seek his fortune in the New 
World. 

On renewing his acquaintance with Adolph, the latter 
gladly offered to give him the position of acting overseer of 
the estate, which was promptly accepted. Lippens amply 
justified this confidence by his skill and efficiency. He was 
the son of a clergyman, and educated at Eton, but declining 
professional life, had entered detective service as a matter 
of choice. 

Three healthy children came to bless the Hermitage home 
and make music for the grandfather’s heart. As in all true 
marriages, the speeding years only made Adolph and Elsie 
nearer and dearer to each other. The memoiy of the past 
was very dear to them in spite of its sorrows, and the pres- 
39 


610 


THE RUSSIAN REFUGEE. 


ence of the “ Patriarch ” to them both was a very real thing 
— not a mere remembrance, but a living fact, and an in- 
spiration in all they undertook. 

Often they rode or walked to the scene of so many hal- 
lowed associations, and conversed of the once home beneath 
them — the wonderful Gave, where lay, in the profound and 
eloquent silence and solitude of that singular tomb, amid 
the marvellous creations of Nature’s subterranean forces, 
the revered form of the ‘‘Bussian Befugee.” 





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